Steel Rain
by rook417
Summary: After a costly raid on a IMC facility, the Militia's flagship makes a hasty escape that sends them to a past and twisted Earth, where giants reign and humans are little more than cattle. As the Colossal Titan makes its return after five years and the Battle of Trost begins, a team of two Pilots descend, little knowing of the horrors that await them, both in and outside the Walls.
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

8/11/14

Author's Notes: I'm going to start right out, I apologize for the fact that this story will be un-updated for for quite awhile. College for me is starting very soon and considering the nature of my college, I don't think I will be writing fanfic till next summer, and _maybe_ the holidays. However, my goal was to at least share the first six out of sixteen chapters, before I'm off. Hopefully, the first six will be enough to have what you readers might be looking for...

Sometime before 8/11/14...

Author's Notes: So, why is there only two other stories in this category? You would think this stuff is crossover gold, but apparently not. :/ Besides writing this story for the sake of it, I also writing (er typing) it to help improve my overall writing skill that has practically been untouched during my second semester of senior year. I know what you guys are thinking. Writing fanfiction in preparation for college, that's insane! But then again, I suppose if you actually found your way in this sparse corner of the Internet, you're probably insane as much as I am. Nonsensical rambling aside, I'm gonna address the possibility of the confusion of which titan is gonna be which. Shouldn't be too much of a problem, since the majority of this story is told from the eyes of a _Titanfall _pilot, so hopefully that will help you know which is which.

Titans = Titans from _Titanfall_, aka the mechs.

titans = Titans from _Snk/Attack on Titan_. Exceptions include the Colossal Titan, Female Titan, etc. since they're major characters and whatnot.

Anyway, on the Titanfall side of things, the story takes place some time after Mission 3: The Odyssey, after the Militia appoints MacAllan as their new leader. Spoiler alert, but I doubt anyone would care due to how hectic and unnoticeable the "campaign" gets. You can just imagine the battle depicted in this prologue as some random Attrition match. For the Attack on Titan side, story picks up somewhat during the Battle of Trost.

Disclaimer: _Attack on Titan_ and _Titanfall_ belong to their respective owners, Hajime Isayama and Respawn Entertainment.

* * *

Chapter 1: Prologue

_Cosmology - Stephen Barton_

Earth. Home planet of humanity. Like any home it was getting crowded, dirty. Our fault I suppose. Human ignorance and the works, you know? Still it was home, but like anyone growing up, we looked for another place we could call our own. To begin anew, to start with a clean slate. So we turned to the stars. The moon landing was our first big accomplishment, but we were still taking baby steps, poking and probing any of the planets that were in reach. Our dream of a new Frontier diminished, some written off as impossible. But a few of us were more persistent.

Said few happened to be scientists. And from their determination came the very engine that allowed humanity to accomplish our dreams. The whitecoats call it Space and Time Folding, but most of us just call it Jump. We went far and fast, looking for everything that would answer our questions of the dark abyss we called space. Turns out we found something better. A deadzone of habitable planets. A galaxy of Earth-like planets, untouched and ripe to start a new living.

The new Frontier.

But despite of all our wonderful advancements and technology, our history followed. And it repeated. Greed, violence, the darker sides of our race. As rich the Frontier was in life, it was also rich in resources. The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, private military arm of the Core Worlds, sought to exploit said resources. Even if meant booting the freshly arrived colonists off the planets. Tempers flared and tensions exploded. And then before you knew it, another war began. The Militia was born, a ragtag bunch of bandits and settlers that happen to have the guns and guts to stand up against the IMC. Most people didn't really see eye to eye to with them, but as the IMC stepped up the pressure, many more joined the cause. A few of the Militia brigades fight hard for their freedom. Some fight dirty. Others, a little bit of both. Chaos and destruction erupts through the Frontier as the war goes on. The IMC garrisons do their best and worst to maintain peace and order, while the Militia do everything they can to earn their independence.

My name is Garrett Nguyen, Titan Pilot for the M-COR Brigade of the Frontier Militia. And this is my story…

* * *

I couldn't help but marvel at how my visor had not fogged up to kingdom come, at the rate I was breathing. I had to hand it to the IMC, as much as I disliked them; they actually make some pretty good stuff if it wasn't for their ridiculously high prices. And their tendency of making some morally, questionable business practices. And the fact that it's _their_ mercs and _their _property that happens to be shooting at _me_.

Forget dislike. I can honestly say that I hate them now.

I shook my head, focusing all my thoughts on the glowing arrow that lay before my eyes thanks to the Heads-Up Display in my visor. My off-tangent thoughts meant that my mind was getting oxygen depraved, even for my augmented lungs and that if I didn't calm down for a few seconds, I was going to make a mistake.

And if I made a mistake, I was going to wind up dead.

Or tortured.

Very high chances it was going to both anyway.

A 40mm round that just tore right through the air, only a few inches away from my head, killed that thought immediately. Forget the possibility of tripping on my own two feet and face-planting to my death. If I so much as slowed down by a millisecond, I was going to be nothing but a red _mist_.

'Thank the friking deities of above. And science' I thought when I saw the two-story building that served as the dropship's landing pad.

Roger, an older teammate and impromptu mentor of mine who had split off during the middle of the IMC counter-strike, was standing at the edge, Mag-Launcher in hand. Firing off a burst of grenades, he spotted me rounding the corner.

"Newb, get your arse up here! We only got five seconds 'fore we leave ya to the dingoes!" his Australian accent barked through the air.

Usually Roger had kept his native accent subdued; living for about a decade on the Frontier with only "French tarts" and "Bogans" for company will do that to your voice apparently. The only time I would hear it break through were either cause Roger had his sniper rifle in hand, was talking to his relatives, or we were in deep, sometimes literal, fecal matter.

Guess which one was the most accurate depiction of what was going on around us?

Anyway, back to the problem of only having five seconds to get into that drop-ship. Now, five seconds to haul your buttocks, 40-some pound kit, weapons and etc. up of two flight of stairs was pretty damning if you were the run-of-the-mill minuteman or even a *C.I Jackboot on stims. Plenty of time, however, for someone of the likes of me.

I leaned my head forward, propelling myself at full tilt. And just when it looked like I was about to splat myself silly all over the concrete wall, I leapt up at the last second, kicking off the wall. As I reached the peak of my leap, I triggered my jumpkit, the linchpin of a Pilot's equipment, clearing the rest of the wall's height like a sugar-high grasshopper. Bullets of various calibers practically kissed the path I ran on, my beeline for the dropship being an easy target even for the IMC grunts that were closing in.

One, two, three strides later and I was in! I had literally tumbled into the troop compartment of the drop-ship, the hull door shutting so quick that my back would have been shaved if I had gotten in a second later. However, danger was still nigh, evidenced by the shuddering of explosions that impacted right outside of the ship, and the waning meter on my HUD that indicated what little strength remained in the drop-ship's shield barrier.

"'Right, that's everyone! Get this tin can out of here!" Rogers yelled to the ship's pilot.

As the pilot quickly tapped at the controls, I watch through the narrow window compartment as a bulky silhouette of a white painted, Ogre Titan dashed into view, quad-barrel missile cannon at the ready, no doubt with the intent of permanently grounding us from safe-haven and blasting us all into a fiery oblivion as an added bonus. Before intent became reality though, a brightening glow covered the rising dropship before transforming into a blinding flash. Blinking my eyes rapidly, pieces of floating, metal debris, greeted my sight and behind them was the vast, starlit darkness that was space. Instead of a hostile Ogre, IMC grunt or Pilot, in view came bearing down a beaten, but not broken, form of the Militia 1st Fleet's Flagship.

The_ Red-Eye._

We were home.

We were safe…but for how long?

* * *

"Captain on deck!"

"At ease kid" said MacAllan, the newly appointed leader of the Marauder Corps brigade as he briskly walked into the command center of the _Red-Eye_.

"Alright, talk to me Sarah. How are we doing down there?"

"We got the supplies, but barely. A few of the last dropships just got into the bay. All hands accounted for."

"Boss, we got incoming! Starboard side, hostile energy readings are at thirty percent and increasing. The IMC ships look ready to fire!"

Eyes wide, James MacAllan barely suppressed a shiver of horror before he snapped back into action.

"Starboard? But that's where some of the civilian ships are!"

Rushing over to the central command terminal of the ship, MacAllan slammed down on the buttons that would open the fleet-wide, communications system.

"This is MacAllan to all Militia forces and civilian ships. I am giving the order for a full retreat, I repeat, a full retreat. We got what we need, all hands, start your jump sequences and get the hell out of here!"

Already, the smaller Frontier ships began to glow the telltale sign of a long distance jump. Lances of energy and missile contrails that were being exchanged on both sides begin to intensify, each ship trying to out-destroy the other before their targets became out of reach. In the blink of the eye, the Militia ships zoomed off into a beam of light, traversing across the galaxy in a matter of minutes. The Interstellar Mining Corporation ships did not bother pursuit, for instead, they decided to home in on the _Red-Eye_, which unlike its smaller companions, still remained where it was, in orbit over the raided planet. Being one of the last and largest of the Militia ships to resupply, the Militia flagship was still in its final processes of preparing for its jump.

"Bish, tell me when those engines are ready. The IMC guns are looking very hungry and they just found the main course" MacAllan said with apprehension in his tone.

"Engines are at fifty and climbing steady! We'll be able to jump in a couple of minutes!"

"We don't have a couple of minutes, Bish. We need those engines at seventy and we needed them yesterday!"

Already, the whole ship shook under the combined fire of the IMC's fleet, beating down on its shields like heavy rain. The crew in the command center nearly toppled over, but quickly grabbed on the nearby railings and terminals that were designed to support them for such an occasion. MacAllan had just steadied himself when several of the crewmen began to shout their respective information out to him.

"Captain, shields are at fifteen and decreasing! We're not going to hold on much longer!"

"We got new contact, bearing forty-seven degrees, port-side! IMC support frigates coming in fast!"

"Long range sensors have just been knocked out! We're almost blind!"

As a slew of information streamed in from all directions, the Captain was force to tune it all out; focusing only his attention on the singular line of communication with Bish and the _Red-Eye_'s engineering crew.

"Lorck, are we good to go?" MacAllan asked, his voice becoming a steady calm despite of the chaos that rang all around.

"Engines are at sixty-seven! We can do a randomized jump but it ain't going to be pretty!"

"If I wanted pretty, Bish, then I would've settle for just staying here as the IMC's turkey shoot! Hit it!"

And with that, the flagship began to violently accelerate forward, picking up enough speed that the distant stars began to blur together in a pure, shining light. In a single, warp of white, the _Red-Eye _was no more.

_To be continued…_

* * *

Author's Notes: Eh, pretty short, but it is a prologue after all. Oh, for anyone who may have noticed and is wondering, the C.I in C.I Jackboot stands for Corporate Issued, aka mercenaries. Just a little term I made up that would seem appropriate. Also, Garrett wearing the IMC assault helmet is in reference to the Militia Pilot models that wore the "Boba Fett" inspired helm according to an interview with one of the designers from _Titanfall_. These guys are seen in the early E3 announcement and gameplay trailers, but for some reason got cut from the official release.


	2. Chapter 2 Arrival

AN: And back to your regularly scheduled reading.

Disclaimer: _Attack on Titan_ and _Titanfall_ belong to their respective owners, Hajime Isayama and Respawn Entertainment. Otherwise an AoT and Titanfall DLC would be a real thing. For free. Right from the beginning.

Moving on.

* * *

Chapter 2: Arrival

"Ugh, this is MacAllan. Roll call and sitrep!"

As the shaken crew of the _Red-Eye_ called off their names and the status of their assigned station one by one, they soon became aware of a blue and green planet that stood before the ship's reinforced, command window. As the data terminals came back online one-by-one, a few of the crew members would scurry to and fro to confirm the sight before them. But many, like the Captain, had stood where they were, still too stunned at the presence in front of them.

Blinking once and then twice, MacAllan spoke slowly.

"Sarah. Where the hell are we?"

Sarah had just finished looking at holographic screens that were displayed in front of her very eyes, each one practically telling her the same thing.

"Third planet from the sun. Orbited by a single moon. Twenty-four hour rotation. That's…that's Earth, Sol System" she said, her mind still not comprehending the fact that humanity's home planet was that much within reach.

And who could blame her? Before the advent of interstellar space travel, Earth was an overcrowded planet on the ground and in space. Massive megacities would make whole continents look like they were covered in spider-webs of metal and light. Several satellites, some that would range from military to civilian grade purposes, to others that were either functional or just salvaged husks of their original purpose, had practically swarmed Earth's orbit in an array of solar panels and steel. But every human being, no matter their origin from the Core Systems or the Frontier, had at least seen the original state of the planet, during the time when man's farthest reach in space was the moon. Blue, green, and with a touch of brown and white, Earth's previous state was still an iconic sight in humanity's memory.

Being from the Frontier, however, this brought up another problem for the crew of the _Red-Eye_. The Core System planets, like Earth, were the home bases to the mega-corporation, Hammond Engineering. Years of successful government contracts, planetary exploration, and explosive business growth led Hammond Engineering to own one of the largest private military corporations in humanity's history, bolstered with enough technology and weaponry to rival the militaries of Earth's nations. Namely, the said PMC was the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, current opposition of the Militia, and dedicated to its mission of extracting the profitable and vast resources of the Frontier…by any means necessary.

In other words, by being this close to Earth, the motley Militia crew was _very_ far deep in enemy territory. Or so they thought.

A minute had passed when MacAllan realized the larger details about the planet. For one, this Earth's orbit was a clean state. No orbital defense stations, no repair docks, not even a single communications satellite was to be seen. Secondly, was the singular, eerie ambiance of the _Red-Eye'_s systems. Usually if a ship was this far in Earth's orbit, it would have been bombarded by security inquiries by the planet's defense forces, usually questions that would involve the crews' identities, cargo, purpose, etc. There would also be the sheer amount of activity that would go to-and-fro from the planet. Military transports, civilian cruisers, and cargo freighters, life in Earth's space was never empty, let alone quiet. However, not a single static was heard over the speakers nor did another ship begin to appear in sight. Finally, there was the third and glaring detail of this planet appearance.

This Earth was clean.

As the surface rotated its gentle slowness under the crews' view, they were treated to the sight of a whole continent covered in a verdant green. A glimpse of a polar ice cap peeked in from under the white swirling clouds and the blue of the oceans that dominated the planet.

This was Earth alright, but it was an untouched, unsoiled, and seemingly, unoccupied Earth, a far cry from the interconnected and industrialized home world of mankind. Already, from one end of the _Red-Eye_ to the other, soldiers, engineers, pilots and even a few refugees began to look out the nearest view port, curiosity overriding their apprehension. Soon, questions were whispered and some theories were raised but almost none dared to let their voice be heard, as if their volume would've destroyed the quiet peace.

MacAllan, always ever the man of action, was the first to move.

"Sarah, get Bish, the engineers, and any surveillance techies that you can find and bring them up here. I want to know what's going on."

* * *

"Oi, kid. No time to sleep, captain just put us on alert."

I woke with a clumsy start, pulling my head away from my braced arm that acted as my impromptu pillow. I regretted the sudden movement, for I began to feel the slight tightness in the side of my neck, thanks to me sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. Already feeling the pins-and-needles of the low circulation in my arm, I jumped off the crate that I had fallen asleep on, planning to stretch out my muscles to relieve myself of any annoying cricks.

Fully awake, I finally took notice of the man standing before me. He was wearing a green flight-suit not unlike mine, with a tan reconnaissance harness over it. A ghillie-covered helmet sat on top of his head, but the Cyclops goggles were raised and his balaclava lowered, revealing his salt-and-pepper bearded face. In his hands, he clutched an empty Kraber AP rifle, with tally marks scratched unto the stock and a nice layer of camouflage paint over the receiver.

By judging from the rough accent in his voice, I had already known the identity of the man before I saw him. It was Roger Bolton, fellow pilot and, currently, my mentor in all things that involved knowing how to kill anything way beyond spitting distance. Apparently my range scores involving any rifle that had a barrel longer than my arm had caught some attention and I was shuffled around pilot teams until they found one in need of spotter and a replacement sniper if needed. Roger, however, saw it as a sign that his time to retire was getting close, and as his last gift to the Militia, decided to leave "a git with a fifth of the skill and half of the brainpan" the first time he saw me. In response to that, I chose to point out that most guys close to retiring from war-fighting usually ended up dead before their last paycheck. He only grunted in agreement, but not before he punched me square in the (helmet's) face.

But over the years, I couldn't blame the codger from acting the way he was. As an immigrant from Australia, a veteran of the Titan Wars, several mercenary outfits, and a couple of off-world expeditions that would involve the hunting of alien mega-fauna that would eat poor colonists on a daily basis, Roger Bolton was a man that was half-tired and half-satisfied with how his life was going. At the end of the day, he was the kind the person that just wanted to get the job done and the paycheck, no matter how small or large.

Speaking of jobs…

"Pilots Bolton and Nguyen, please report to the bridge" came over the PA system.

"That's our queue. Let's get going lad."

"Right behind ya, old man."

* * *

By the time we got to the bridge, the Captain and mission specialists, Cheng "Bish" Lorck and Sarah were waiting for us. While these three were consider infamous, almost legendary, throughout the Militia brigades, us pilots had the responsibility of interacting with them on a daily basis. Besides MacAllan's obvious position as our new commander and his reputation as an IMC officer from the Titan Wars, Bish and Sarah were always the ones that gave us the finer details when it came to battlefield intel, whether it was past, current, or even upcoming. Considering the difficulty of such a role when it comes to micromanaging the statuses and commanding several Pilots scurrying around in loose formation on a chaotic warzone, they had more than deserved our respect a long time ago.

As we entered the bridge, Roger and I only noticed that we were the only Pilots on the bridge with several crewmen running to and fro, making repairs, exchanging info, and occasionally updating one of the commanders that were standing around the large holo-table that served as the main briefing and command tool. My eyes had spotted several screens showing different maps of a planet's terrain, ranging from local topography to thermal scans. What took the center of attention however, was the holographic representation of…

Earth.

Huh.

Guess the scuttlebutt I heard on the way was actually making sense this time.

"Pilots, glad to know you guys are still here" started MacAllan. He had just looked up from a recent text update on the table, but chose to stay postured over the table to help give him a better view at the incoming data.

"I don't know what the crew has been saying down there, but to put aside all possible doubts you two might have at the moment, that is indeed, Earth" he said as he pointed at the hologram, "Everything about this planet's features check out. Atmosphere, gravity, and all of the land masses fit it to a T. And no, it is not the Earth we know. Note the finer details of the fact that the surface is practically untouched and that we haven't made received any contact of any sort, it's safe to say that we are alone up here as of this moment."

Bish decided to step up to the table.

"Now we're still working on how the fuck we got here, but the thing is, we still don't know. After that randomized and risky jump," he said while giving MacAllan a pointed look, "we theorized it might have been our engines, but as far as we know, current engine designs are not capable enough to fling their passengers from the Frontier all the way back to Earth. I personally like to think we have traveled back in time and chances are scuttlebutt will probably think that we went into alternate dimensions…"

"But I for one," Sarah interrupted before he could elaborate, "personally don't care what the rumors are, but the main thing is that we are still floating in the dark here. Literally."

Bringing up a view screen of the_ Red-Eye_'s engines, we noted how the whole diagram was almost covered in error and damage reports.

"Our hasty escape from the IMC faculty put a lot strain on the engines. As of now we are running on minimal power, only enough to stay in orbit, and all our engineers are dedicated to its repair. Problem is that while we have plenty of fuel, I can thank you guys for that, we are still running low on raw materials for replacing the damaged parts. And the obvious question on why the _Red-Eye_ decided to show up here of all places."

"And that's where you Pilots come in," MacAllan took over, "We got two things that we need, answers and supplies, both of which you guys can hopefully find when you get down there."

I raised my eyebrows and asked, "Just the two of us, sir?"

Although I had yet to remove my helmet (a common habit among us Titan pilots), MacAllan looked right into my eyes as if my glowing visor was non-existent. He lightly shook his head and his voice had a grimmer tone.

"We lost a lot of people back on that raid. Some of them were fellow Pilots too. At the very moment, you two are the only and best recon units we got on hand. Everyone else is either dead or sitting in the med-bay. And the _Red-Eye's _long range sensors and comms are out of commission. We only managed to get some local ground scans and thermal, but they ended up raising more questions than solving them. We need eyes on the ground and if we're going to do that, might as well be the ones that can do it quickly and quietly. Since you and Bolton are the fireteam's spotter and sniper, respectively, this mission will be right up your alley."

MacAllan leaned over the table and began enlarging one of the mini-maps.

"And, we got good news and bad news for your pilots. Good news is that we have a place for you two to start looking and, hopefully, folks to be asking" he said as he manipulated the map until the hologram brought up a bird's eye view of three very large, circular walls, each one covered by four 'bulges' in each direction. Inside each 'bulge' I noticed were clusters of tiny, but grouped rooftops, indicating the presence of civilization. The terrain elsewhere varied from forested areas to open fields with wide rivers and lakes. I also took a mental note that the bulges encircling the towns grew bigger as they got closer to center. A caste system perhaps? I only shook my head before I began to start spouting theories as a result due to my History Civilization classes from old college classes from days long past.

MacAllan continued on with the briefing.

"Thermal shows a lot of activity, not as much as the cities back home, but we suspect enough that there are people down in these areas. Still, try to minimize contact and blend in if possible. We don't want the locals to hogtie you pilots up and start burning you at the stake for being space warlocks or some such. If you guys do make nice though, remember to behave and bargain. If they want something that we can spare, don't give it for free. Try to get food, raw resources, information, whatever, we may have enough supplies to stay up here for a good bit, but the _Red-Eye _cannot afford to run on charity. We're stretched thin as it is. In other words, you two are going to be our ambassadors and traders if the need arises. You two may be soldiers, but both of you should be smart enough to pull something out of your hamster holes to placate them until we get down there ourselves."

"Sir, what would you want us to do if we run into the local authorities or even their military?" I asked.

"Same thing as the locals. Minimal contact but if they're anything like the IMC, shoot back and start hauling ass. If they ask nicely, only tell them the things we can afford to let them know. We're a few cards short and we're playing pretty close to the heart already as it is."

"So what's the bad news?" Roger spoke up for the first time during the briefing.

The captain nodded over at Sarah, and she proceeded to bring up a thermal scan of the zoomed-in map. The scan was predominantly grey, but splotches and dots of red and orange littered throughout. Sarah flicked the hologram to the center of the table where the image enlarged even more alongside the original image.

"The bad news is, according to these thermals, there's going to be a lot of unknown contact between the LZ and the target location" Sarah said as she began to point out the bigger blobs of heat that surrounded the rings. Most curiously, said blobs were also inside the area of outermost ring.

"We can't tell much from the scans, but we do know that whatever they are, they are big, mobile, and kicking off a lot of heat. These things are nowhere to be seen in the towns or the areas between the walls with the exception of the outermost ring. For all we know they may be just mutant cows that were just left out to pasture or the long-lost cousins of Godzilla. We don't know, but we will soon enough when you Pilots get down there. Still, I would keep my distance if I were you."

Sarah began to minimize all but one of the data screens, each one had already been reviewed for the briefing. She manipulated the map even further, showing a heavily forested area within the outermost ring-wall.

"This here will be where we'll being dropping off you pilots. There should be a lot of trees to provide cover, and if the thermals are right, minimal presence of the unknown heat signatures. You two are going in fast and low by dropship. Bring a full kit and everything you would need to find out about everything. No Titan support for the first couple hours or so, like MacAllan said, no need in scaring the locals or playing your aces too soon. Not to mention the _Red_-_Eye _won't be in the same position we are now. Engines are in repair, but it'll take a while to at least get back in sync over you guys during the mission."

"So we'll be cut off right from the beginning" Roger stated.

"Yeah, but we're not a fan of leaving our own guys hanging. If the data projections are right, we'll be able to get you a support window in a couple of hours after the mission begins. After that, though, we'll be only able to check in every few weeks, so your care packages will be a bit heavier than you guys are used to. In fact, I'll run some communication protocols on the way down. But for now, Bish you got the table. See you boys in the hangar."

And with that, Sarah left the bridge while MacAllan walked towards a group of engineers that had just arrived. Bish stepped forward and for the first time, we noticed the black duffle bag he had in hand. Dispersing the holograms, he almost but threw the bag unto the table, unzipping and relieving it of items. Some of the items, I recognized were stealth generators, but one looked like a skeletal headset with a small visor attached. The other item, was big as one's palm, and I recognized it as helmet module of some sort, spotting out the mount that would allow a user to clamp it to their headgear.

Bish went over the stealth generators first.

"Since we're going off the possibility that there are humans down there, I took some cloaking devices and tuned them up so they'll be near-invisible to the human eye. No need to modify the implants in your skin as long as you guys are still wearing your gear. You'll stick out like sore thumbs on Titan and drone optics but hopefully, that shouldn't be a problem here."

He then handed us each of the cylindrical devices, each one still pulsing a soft blue, indicating that they were on standby. Out of curiosity, Roger harnessed the generator, and after a minute, activated the device. Roger flickered out of sight until finally it looked like he had disappeared off the deck. The generator deactivated, and Roger reappeared on the other side of the table, nodding in approval of the modification.

Bish then proceeded to pick up the headset and handed the device to me.

"That there you holding is like an aural implant, but removable. Usually implants are easy to get, but unfortunately we don't have the time to get you to the med-bay for surgery, so I jury rigged one of MacAllan's old hearing aids and tweaked it up a bit…"

"It's not a hearing aid, Cheng!" protested the Captain from across the bridge, somehow miraculously hearing Bish from across the active room. Some of the crew and I chuckled and snickered but resumed back to work.

"Heheh. Anyway, the frame is small enough to wear securely under your helmet, and you can use it as a stand-in for your HUD and comms if your bucket gets wrecked. Unlike the standard implant though, the active radar pulses will last longer and recharge times won't take as long."

"This here is a personal alarm system. Your helmet will warble to you when anyone not marked as friendly gets a little close. Vektor rigged it to keep the rats out of the kitchen. Maybe you can put it to better use" Bish said as he picked up the battery sized module and handed it to Roger. He only nodded and grunted thanks before he mounted the device on the side of his helmet.

"Well that's all I got for you folks. Head down to armory and kit up. Mission begins in an hour."

* * *

I hefted the two-toned pistol, checking the sights, the safety, and the silencer. After everything checked out, I racked the slide to confirm that the weapon was indeed, loaded. The Smart Pistol Mk5 was a fine piece of kit, excellent in close-quarters and covert operations, thanks to its ability to lock onto enemy targets and firing guided, armor piercing rounds at close range. While it wasn't anything like my Wingman revolver, it was a nice gun to have in a pinch. Roger, of course, naturally detested it, often complaining that it took away the whole point of learning how to aim in the first place, but naturally as always, I ignored him in this case.

Only grabbing a pair of spare magazines, I tucked the pistol in a holster that was mounted to my combat harness. Basic rule of principle stated that it was best to place a sidearm in an area where it would be the fastest to draw, but the holster that sat at my thigh was already occupied with Terra. Terra was a customized B3 Wingman (or in this case, Wingwoman) revolver I owned before I had signed up with the Militia. Originally, it was a relic from the Titan Wars, lying rusting away at a local pawnshop, but after I had spared some time, money, and work into it, the weapon was a pleasure to shoot. Fitted with blacked-out, stippled hand-grips, a match trigger, and an 8-round cylinder, she had more than earned her name. Old, reliable, and hard to put down, the pistol was kinda like Earth. Ironic that this was probably the first time I would be using her on her namesake.

After scooping up a silenced R-101 Carbine rifle and slinging a compacted Sidewinder micro-missile launcher on the way out of the armory, I gave myself one final pat-down to check that my gear and weapons were squared away. Few bulkheads later, I was in the hangar, walking towards the Crow dropship that would be our ride down. Roger was already there first, sitting on the loading ramp, with his now-fully loaded Kraber Armor Piecing rifle in hand. He was currently tweaking the scope, rotating the dial then aiming the rifle at specific point on the ground, then back to fiddling the scope once more. As I got closer, he acknowledged my presence but not before he noticed the Smart Pistol that was sitting in my chest holster. He only shook his head in disappointment, long accepting that I was a lost cause, before he got up and finished the calibrating of his weapon.

We made our way into the dropship, noting how more empty the troop bay was. We were so use to riding on these things crammed full of fellow Pilots and troopers that it was so near haunting that the only occupants were me, the dropship pilot, Roger and Sarah. I could only empty my mind of any grief towards the losses we had sustained, for I had no time for such thoughts on a mission. There would be a time for mourning later.

The ship began to rise in the hangar bay as I yanked the lever that would seal the loading ramp from the dangers of space. I made my way besides Roger and instinctively grabbed one of the support handles that were bolted to the Crow's ceiling. It was there that Sarah began to review designated code words and phrases for our radio evac, emergency, need for reinforcements, etc. There was not much to go over, for by the time we were done, the dropship had already begun its jump sequence. One warping flash later, the darkness of space was replaced with the light blue of the Earth's sky.

None of us could resist looking out the window of the dropship, quickly taking in the seemingly untouched land that looked like it would go on for miles were it not for the walls that were off in the distance. Not to the mention the sight of nothing but pines that had suddenly covered the view of the window.

Huh. Were we landing on a large hill?

My eyes had all but sprang out of there sockets when I realized that we were still in the air and the reason why I saw the trees so quickly was because they were so _fucking huge._ Large enough that they would give architects that made skyscrapers on a daily basis pause. The branches on every tree were nearly as wide as the trunk, probably with enough strength to hold up several Ogre Titans without making as much as a creak.

We had flown on for minutes searching for a clearing, but with no luck. So instead, we had to settle for the long(er) way down. As the dropship began to set into hover mode, Sarah made way to the back of the dropship, pulling down the lever and opening the loading bay.

"Well, this is as close to the ground as we can for you boys," she yelled over the dropship's engines, "Remember, find and retrieve whatever intel and supplies we can get. We're all counting on you! Good luck! Go, go, go!"

Roger and I only exchanged a quick glance before we jumped out of the troop bay with a running start. The drop was only about two-hundred and some feet, a little bit more than us Pilots were used to, but that was what the jumpkit was for.

Flaring automatically to slow our descent, the thrusters that were mounted on the small of our backs were the descendants of the EVA gear used by mankind's early astronauts. While they were not jetpacks per say, they were still pretty damn close, allowing a user to clear buildings, scale walls, and traverse the most heavily urbanized areas with ease. Besides giving us access to a vertical dimension in combat, they were almost necessary in Titan warfare, whether it was taking on a hostile mech or boarding a friendly one. Once, I had overheard that Pilots were like angels of death, with their Titans being their sword and shield. If that was the case, then the jumpkit was the Pilot's wings.

We descended with barely the softest of landing, for the jumpkit could only decelerate a falling user at the minimal safe speed. Even then, it was quite the drop, for I had to tuck and roll to avoid the possibility of breaking something, even with my pilot augmentations. Roger only landed with his knees bent, automatically falling into a crouching position without making so much as a grunt.

Quickly raising our weapons, we wordlessly scanned the area around us, but all was silent in the forest of giant, coniferous trees. A quick minute had passed, then two, but after he finish surveying the dark trees with his scope, Roger gave me the hand signal that we were moving out.

The mission was finally on.

* * *

Data File – Burn Cards

After the end of the Titan Wars, several kid's toys and media material was created to profit off the "heroic" and "glorifying" points of the conflict. While obviously propaganda and considered a childish game, soldiers of all sorts have been known to collect the trading cards based off the war. Among Pilots, it is common tradition to burn the cards for luck, sometimes before and after a battle. The more superstitious of pilots have been known to burn certain cards (even in a middle of a battle) in hopes of getting a specific "luck" or "perk", whether it is something as simple like scoring a rare weapon from the quartermaster or something so extreme like bouncing back from the near dead. There are also unconfirmed reports that some Pilots have actually transformed into Spectre drones upon burning a card, but considering the state of the witness at that time (For more additional info, please see Dossier: Taube, Robert "Barker"), the reports will still remain unconfirmed.

* * *

AN: Might see a bit more of these of Data Files at the end of each chapter. They're more for trivia than anything else. And, yes, the Pilots more or less just got their "burn cards", except this time they actually get to keep them. However, I always thought the introduction of burn cards to the game was a bit silly, if not odd. In accordance to the data file, burn cards (as in, the actual cards) will not play a role in this story, since I see them more of a gameplay mechanic than anything else. Though the idea of having our Titan pilots play card games on mecha is tempting..._  
_


	3. Chapter 3 Recon

Disclaimer: Third times the charm I suppose. _Attack on Titan_ and _Titanfall_ belong to their respective owners, Hajime Isayama and Respawn Entertainment.

* * *

Chapter 3: Recon

We had trekked through the woods for over an hour when we ran into one of _them_.

Standing only at a little under than twenty feet, it was about a head shorter than an Atlas Titan. Its appearance was similar to that of a naked human, but the proportions were way off, with a bloated gut and a shaggy head that looked almost too heavy for its skinny neck. The giant was lumbering forward with a slouched gait, its back facing towards us.

We had spotted the unknown contact several hundred meters ahead of us on what we assumed was the main trail of the forest. The path looked overgrown as if it had been rarely been used, but it was still wide enough that to be discernible. Upon spotting the creature, Roger gave the hand signal for us to split from the path and flank it from both sides. As he took to the right and I took to left, we both trained our rifle sights on the head of the giant. While we were in a good position to take it out, we held our fire nonetheless. For all we knew, we would've been insulting the locals, springing a trap, or just wasting our ammunition.

Little did I know how accurate that last thought was going to be.

We moved at a near-agonizing pace, a slowness that was I unused to. Being a Titan pilot, I was always constantly on the move on the battlefield. Sniper nests and stationary guns were almost little use to anyone with a jumpkit and Titan support, even for pilots that specialized in such roles. Taking and securing high ground while staying on the move was always a constant objective in our minds, hence my unease at shadowing the unknown target at ground level. Any pilot worth his or her salt usually knows that anything that is literally below their altitude is a target ripe for the picking. My eyes would sometimes dart above into the forest canopy, half expecting something nasty was waiting for us among the branches, ready to pick us off like one of those bad sci-fi movies from the 21st century.

_SNAP_

Everything and everyone seemingly froze, when a twig had suddenly snapped under the weight of my boot.

If Bolton could, he would've facepalmed so hard that his hand would have broken through his helmet, but instead, he just settled on giving me a glare that would have killed me a thousand times over. Waving at me to get behind cover, I all but slammed into a tree, activating my camouflage generator before the giant zeroed in on me. As I waited with bated breath, I mentally cursed myself for making such a rookie mistake. I was so worried of a possible threat from above that my concentration on where I was stepping broke.

Already, the ground vibrated underneath the Titan-sized creature's steps as it got nearer, reminding me of a time when I was being hunted by an enemy Stryder unit. I began to stalk away from the tree, R-101C raised in the direction the contact would approach, my mind taking in every possible escape route and hiding place within reach. At the same time, my attention would direct to the depleting meter that indicated how much power my active camo still had before its effect would dissipate.

The giant arrived at where I had stepped on the stray twig. As it leaned down to examine the broken remains of the stick, I was given a good view of the thing's face. With dull, half-lidded eyes and an expression that looked like it was permanently stoned, the giant was something straight out of the Uncanny Valley. Even more unsettling was the permanent grin that was plastered over its face. A cold shiver snaked up my spine, and the thought to immediately vacate the area took the forefront of my mind as I spotted all-too-familiar, brown splotches on the thing's teeth.

Dried blood.

The giant was carnivorous.

I began to increase my pace, the target's eyes snapped to where I stood, no doubt from hearing the sudden volume in my footsteps. At the same time, I eyed the sliver of the power meter that sat in the corner of my Heads-Up Display. Time was almost up for my last shred of concealment from its sight. Soon, my invisible form began to flicker once, then twice and with one final flash, my position to the giant was revealed.

As it's dull, black eyes locked unto me, I felt like my existence in the universe had just degraded into something along the lines of 'chopped liver'. It raised a lanky arm, with its hand in a position that looked like it was ready to grab me. As the hand began to swipe towards me, two things happened at once.

With a grunt of exertion, I had jumped over the pouncing appendage, blasting my jumpkit's left thruster at the same time, causing me to dodge to the right and away from the giant's reach. At the same time, a resounding gunshot and a chunk of the back of the giant's head exploded, my ears identifying the sound from Roger's custom Kraber rifle. The sniper rifle in question was Mr. Bolton's pride and joy, installed with the finest modifications and fed with the highest grade ammunition a man on the far-side of the Frontier can get.

Namely, said ammunition happened to be explosive rounds.

To our horror, the giant seem unfazed at the attack, and it began to resume its assault once more, steam pouring out from the huge wound channel that my mentor inflicted. I backpedaled away from it as fast as possible, squeezing the trigger on my silenced carbine as I went. As the multitude of sub-sonic bullets smacked into the forehead of my target, it began to raise both of its fists unflinchingly, no doubt planning to make a bloody, pilot pancake out of me. I immediately ceased fire and ran up against a nearby pine, and as the giant's meaty hands struck, I jumped and bounced off the wood, flaring the jumpkit, causing me to fly clear over the over-sized humanoid. Hitting the ground with a messy tumble, I decided that a change in firepower was in order.

Grabbing the collapsed Sidewinder that was at my side, and with a flick of the wrist, the anti-armor weapon unfurled into its full-size. Letting off a burst of micro-missiles, the explosives began to plow into the grinning visage of the giant. Roger began to advance from his cover, firing his Kraber at such a smooth pace, he cycled the bolt like it was an antiqued shotgun that I had the misfortune to get shot at during a bar fight. Chunks of flesh were blown from its head and a few of the rounds demolished the human-like teeth, giving the creature a bloody but nearly, toothless grin, making it even more disturbing.

Under the combined fire of our heavy weapons, one of the giant's eyes was blown out, and for the first time, the creature had reacted in pain, yelling out in a savage, yet pitiful moan. Covering the steaming socket with its left hand, the giant still attempted to reach out for us. Fortunately, its depth perception was just as ruined, allowing Roger and I to dart from its grasp with ease. Spurred by the giant's distress, I redirected my aim to the second eye, completely blinding it under a storm of explosives. Even as the creature fell to its knees, the remains of its face covered by its hand, we did not stop firing until the magazines of our weapons ran dry.

With one final sway, the target fell forward, the head becoming no more than a steaming, vapor cloud that poured from the remains of its neck, and its hands were reduced to fleshy stumps. Reloading our weapons, we cautiously stalked towards the steaming corpse, keeping an eye out for any signs of life in the giant parody of a human. As the adrenaline from the fight cleared from my blood, my mind began to start making new questions and observations. Judging from the output of steam that bled from its wounds, the giant was probably one of the unknown heat signatures that the _Red-Eye_'s thermal scanners picked up when we first arrived. However, at the same time, my mind retraced every bit of knowledge I learn that involved Earth's biology. Unfortunately, I could not recall anything that involved man-eating, Titan-sized humans that had the emotional range of a brick. The thing had a small semblance of intelligence and had an appearance that resembled a human, but at same its very presence was one that was alien and just plain unsettling.

Before we could speak the questions on our mind, we noticed that the corpse had begun to shift, and the steam from the blooded stumps began to lessen. Focusing our eyes through the vapor, we saw fibers of muscle and bone growing back over the wounds.

The damn thing was _regenerating._

While regeneration tech was not uncommon for us space folk, it was still a long, expensive, and complicated process that could only be achieved via the use of technology. Not to mention it was only applicable to someone who was still alive.

I should know. I was stuck in one for the better part of a week.

But here laid a dead body in front of us, its biology accomplishing something that should have taken days but did so in a matter of minutes.

And it was doing so without anything that involved a computer chip as well.

It was to our horror that we realized that the thing was doing the very thing that nearly exceeded our current limits and understanding of technology and science.

It was coming _back to life._

Backpedaling from the giant, not-dead-but-by-all-rights-it-should-be-dead corpse, I could only hurriedly ask Roger for his advice.

"Now what, sir?", I said with much uncertainty in my voice.

As a general rule-of-thumb, I've tried living a life without uncertainty. By being in the Militia as a Titan Pilot, fear and doubt were things that I had to let go when I wanted to live long enough to see my next birthday. Another general rule-of-thumb that I learned during my time in the Militia, was that I never had to ask Roger for a lot advice on the battlefield, let alone call him sir.

Long story short, if I was asking Roger for counsel of any sort, you can probably tell that '_tào lao đã đạt các fan hâm mộ'_.

Roger only took a gentle step backward. Then another. Then, after giving the reviving, eldritch pseudo-zombie one final look over, he did a smooth about haste and began walking in the direction of the distant walls. It was only five steps later that he decided to break into a hasty run.

Good ol' Roger. Never a guy without a good, well-thought out, plan up his sleeve.

And I meant that in the most honest way possible.

After all, there wasn't much point in sticking around if the cannibalistic bullet-sponge liked to have a nice entrée of human with a side dish of all of our ammo.

Stowing away our weapons to free up our hands, we bounded and rebounded off and up into the trees. While the human-hungry monster didn't seem that fast on foot, the branches overhead provided a nice layer of extra protection along the speed of our jumpkits. It was only when the giant was out of our hearing range that we decided to take a break. We squatted on the thick branches with our rifles scanning below, checking to see if the giant had managed to catch up with us. After five minutes of tense silence, I was the first to move, disengaging my Active Radar Pulse vision as I walked over to center of the tree to relax. The micro-visor did its job, but looking through it for a long time had nearly given me quite the headache.

Roger moved over as well but not before he bumped his fist against my helmet. I didn't bother to react.

"That was a stupid move to do, you deadhead. Poppin' your camo before that fella even got near you, I mean. Should've saved it before you decided to bolt."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry for the honest mistake though. My attention was still diverted upwards. Not an easy habit to get rid of."

Roger nodded in agreement.

"Guess it's a bit of my fault too in the end. You're still a bit fresh out from the regen pods and I have yet to teach you how to stalk in the bush the old-fashioned way. Thought these woods would be a great opportunity to see how well you do, but that thing down there changes things", he said as he made his way to the highest branch on the tree.

With a hop, a mantle, and a boost of the jumpkit, we were standing on a branch that provided a nice view of the rest of the forest as well as the distant wall that marked civilization. Between the giant trees and the wall, were wide green fields. Hills and small farms were scattered throughout, but it was almost impossible to tell if there was any life from the distance we stood.

Bolton popped the full-face goggle that served as his helmet's visor, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air. Unlike some of the habitable planets of the Frontier, the quality of the atmosphere here was far more suitable for human lungs. Combined with the geography and location of the planet itself, my doubts of this world for not being Earth diminished. I felt troubled, however, for if this was an Earth that we did not know, was the crackpot theories of an alternate dimension or time travel closer to the truth than we thought? If so, then we were a long, _long_, away from home.

I began to feel slightly nauseous at the very thought, a rare occurrence for someone who was trained for high speed combat and spent most of their time at bone-shattering heights. Roger began to notice.

"Feelin' alright kid? Take your bucket off and try to at least get a good whiff of the air. This wind is freshest I've smelled ever since I left the homeland. I wouldn't be surprised though. If I was your age and in your boots back there with that beastie, I would've been mighty unsettled too. That thing back there just didn't sit right…"

Although he was slightly wrong at the source of my unease, he was not far from the truth. The encounter with the human-like giant was a bit of a slap in the face for us. Despite of its slow speed and primitiveness, it was very resilient and apparently, an immunity to death on top of its desire to start noming on its smaller cousins.

Namely us humans, to be specific.

Still, I decided to follow my mentor's lead, and I began to remove my looted IMC helmet. With a slight twist and the small pop of depressurization, I blinked my eyes open to an un-polarized view of the world. Taking a gentle breath, I nearly fell from my perch for how clean the air was. Although I had grown up in a Frontier town, my home-planet in particular was known to be quite dusty in the countryside. The air there was not unpleasant, but depending on the season, taking a walk outside of the city with a handkerchief or a scarf over your mouth was a necessity if you didn't want to stay bedridden for days, coughing up sand and dirt from your lungs.

Spending the rest of my life breathing in stale and recycled spaceship air didn't help either.

Bringing my attention back to the subject of the monster of the week, I began to ask the older Pilot.

"Did you see the steam that was coming off that thing? It must be one of the heat signatures that the _Red-Eye_ picked up on the scope."

Roger began to look contemplative, an easy task for his aged face and his folded arms.

"Hmm, if that was the case, then there must be bigger versions of those damn things. The thermal picked up bogeys of various sizes throughout the zone," he said, as he swept one of his arms out at the land, "and if the last scans told us anything, there will be a lot of 'em between here and our destination."

"You think that these giants are also hostile to the natives?" I asked.

"Likely. There were no heat signatures that would relate to any possible human settlements in the outermost area, where we are now. And if my eyes are telling me right," Bolton said as he unslung his rifle and looked through the optic, "Those farm houses are empty out there. Probably because they were abandoned. The architecture looks like something out of a history article or something. Haven't seen a shack like that except this one time in the Outback…"

Curious, I reequipped my helmet, pulling out a spotter scope from my harness.

"Where is it?"

"5 degree down and to the right."

As I traced my eye across the strangely walls of the houses, an old essay came into mind. White walls with a wooden support struts and a shingled roof; the farmstead looked very Western European…

"Sir, I do believe," I said hesitatingly, "that we are in Germany."

My mentor lowered his rifle and gave me a skeptical look, before turning his view back out to the world.

"Huh," he simply replied.

Before I could explain any further, a piercing scream was heard throughout the forest. We exchanged alarmed looks. Snapping back into action, we scanned the greenery below us, with Roger reactivating the goggled visor over his helmet and with me activating my echo vision.

"See anything?" he said as he peered through the scope.

"I'm seeing some more of those creatures at the edge of the woods. Also got some unknown bogeys too. Their too far and moving too fast to tell. Much smaller though. Could be the locals."

"Guess break time is over. If we're lucky, there might be someone still alive long enough to talk too."

We leapt off the branches until we were right below the forest's canopy. We were high enough to avoid any potential hostiles on the ground but low enough to see through the green with ease. Occasionally, we were forced to drop back to the ground due to some of the trees were spaced too far for even our jumpkits. After seven minutes of being a human rollercoaster through the trees, we finally arrived to the sight of battle.

There were creatures not unlike the one we had encountered, but these ones in particular varied in size and shape. Some of them had stood a head taller than the last giant, but there were a few that had stood at about thirty feet, a height that would practically tower over our Titan mechs. Some of them had looked extremely emaciated, nearly skeletal, and the others had what was probably the most, unhealthy potbelly I ever seen, alien creature or otherwise. After seeing the different variations, we noticed that all of the creatures had either a feminine or masculine look to them despite of the lack of, ahem, genitals.

Regenerating, nigh-invincible, human eating, nude giants that had no distinctive gender.

This mission was getting weirder and disturbing by the minute.

But what had drew the most of our attention, was the sight of the humans fighting them. Zipping through the air on what looked like a steam-powered, jumpkits combined with a pair of hip-mounted grappling hooks, the soldiers, as indicated by their uniform brown jackets and their green cloaks, were fighting a costly battle. Using only the pair of swords that they had in each hand and the mobility given to them by their gear, we were surprised at their tenacity to stay in what was to be their doom if they had remained fighting.

Or so we thought when we saw one of them kill a giant.

One of the soldiers had barely escaped getting their legs bitten by the literal skin of their teeth, hooking onto a nearby tree trunk and using a burst of gas to circle around the giant. As the soldier got directly behind the giant, he activated his second grappling barb, attaching himself to the giant's neck. He reeled himself in at full speed, blades ready to strike.

With a mighty battle cry, the left blade fell unto the nape of the giant, followed by its twin armed in the second hand.

And like a puppet suddenly cut loose from its strings, the creature gave one final shudder before it fell to ground, where it did not rise again. Steam began to blast out from every pore of the giant's skin, and as the vapor dissipated, the large corpse had already decomposed into a disintegrating skeleton.

Roger and I exchanged a questioning look to confirm what we just saw.

"You see how that lad made that creature cark it? Right above the base of the neck."

"Almost like rodeoing an Atlas Titan. Now that we know how to kill it, should we go help them?" I asked.

"MacAllan told us to make as much friends as we can. And you know the saying about the 'enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Well, I say we got an opportune moment here to start making some new cobbers."

"And if they turn hostile afterwards?

"Be the better man."

"By shooting back at them?"

"As long as it's politely, of course."

* * *

Data File – R-101C Compact Carbine

The R-101C Carbine is a high performance, select-fire assault rifle commonly used by various military groups throughout the Frontier. Chambered in 8.19 mm rounds with Tungsten Penetrators in a copper-jacket and a polymer cartridge, the carbine is known to be as an adaptable, yet easily controlled weapon. Outside of its abilities to mount a wide range of optics and other tactical accessories, the success of the rifle gave way to a wide range of several weapons built off the R-101's design, ranging from submachine guns (the R-97 Compact SMG), PDWs (the CAR), and sniper rifles (the Longbow Designated Marksman Rifle). In fact, if given the proper components, an operator can easily convert their carbine into any of the weapons mentioned, with little to no tools needed and minimal parts replacement. Even in its default state, the R-101C performs quite well in any situation and at any range, thanks to its minimal recoil and a respectable fire rate. With its ease of use, dependability, and adaptability, the carbine is a weapon for any soldier, whether they are a beginner or a veteran, grunt or pilot.

* * *

Translation: tào_ lao đã đạt các fan hâm mộ - The crap has hit the fan. _(Or that's what Google Translate tells me. T.T)


	4. Chapter 4 Alliance

Disclaimer: Haha…no. If you really want to find it, go back to the previous chapters and look at the very top. We will wait for you here. That is, until I lose my patience. Which is right now.

* * *

Chapter 4: Alliance

_With a mighty battle cry, the left blade fell unto the nape of the giant, followed by its twin armed in the second hand._

_And like a puppet suddenly cut loose from its strings, the creature gave one final shudder before it fell to ground, where it did not rise again. Steam began to blast out from every pore of the giant's skin, and as the vapor dissipated, the large corpse had already decomposed into a disintegrating skeleton._

_Roger and I exchanged a questioning look to confirm what we just saw._

"_You see how that lad made that creature cark it? Right above the base of the neck."_

"_Almost like taking on an Atlas Titan. Now that we know how to kill it, should we go help them?" I asked._

"_MacAllan told us to make as much friends as we can. And you know the saying about the 'enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Well, I say we got an opportune moment here to start making some new cobbers."_

"_The captain also said to stay out sight. What should we do if they turn hostile afterwards?_

"_Be the better man." _

"_By shooting back at them?" _

"_As long as it's politely, of course."_

* * *

As Bolton took to the higher branches to find a better vantage point, I decided to head back down to the lowest set of branches. I weaved in and out through the trees, using my cloak sparingly when I came across a large opening. While there were plenty of areas to drop straight down into the battle, I opted to stay along the fringes, deciding to pick off any straggling giants that would flank the soldiers.

As soon as I came upon one the giants that had just shown up to the fight, it began to run full speed ahead upon sight of the humans. Roughly the same size of the giant we first encountered, this one, however, was _fast_. Probably due to its near skeletal build, the lanky giant moved forward like a demented spider, with its wide eyes and open jaw. Setting my jumpkit to full burn, I had barely managed to keep up with the creature, even as I shunted the remaining power of my cloak generator into the thrusters.

With a leap off the last branch in my path and a full blast of my overheated jumpkit, I managed to grab on to the giant's shoulder. Thankfully, the skin was quite leathery, allowing me grip on with ease.

Unfortunately, this particular giant was almost as aware as it was quick, turning its head to its shoulder with its mouth wide open, ready to inhale a Militia pilot whole. I leapt away just in time, pulling out my data knife and jamming it into the nape of its neck with all my strength. However, as I realized that I was still clinging to a very-much-alive giant, it ran forward as if my attack was no more than a mere mosquito bite. Then again, I was partially surprised that my blade actually managed to hold in the first place, especially since pilot knives were often subjected to large amounts of abuse, especially when used during a wall-hang.

Quickly reviewing the recent memory of the soldiers with their swords in each hand, I realized that my knife was insufficient in hitting whatever that acted as the weak spot of these giants. I pulled myself up with the blade that was still lodged in the thick skin, and with my feet planted against the base of the neck, I began to unsling my automatic carbine. Clicking the safety switch to full-auto, I placed my weapon almost point-blank against the neck and then began to mash the trigger down.

With only one arm bracing my weapon, the R-101C kicked wildly against my shoulder. I cared little for accuracy, letting my rifle sweep from side to side, for the neck was quite thick and a large spread would better increase my chances of hitting the target's vulnerable spot. Steaming blood began to splatter across my arms and my visor as I fired, but before I could wipe the offending substance, it began to evaporate and dissolve away, recovering my vision. As curious this new fact was about the giants, I filed it away for later, for my concentration was completely dedicated to the task at hand.

Firing at 810 rounds-per-minute, my rifle's thirty-round magazine was completely emptied into the giant in a matter of seconds. With the nape completely shredded, the creature gave one final death shudder before it fell to the ground. As it died, I leapt off the remains of the giant's neck, flaring my jumpkit to put some extra distance between me and the steaming corpse.

Pressing my rifle's magazine release, I caught the narrow ammunition box as it began to fall from my weapon. As I placed the empty mag into a dedicated utility pouch where it could be recycled for later, it wasn't until I had finished reloading that I noticed that I had an audience.

A human one, to be specific.

* * *

Corporal Levi knew something was up when a 10-meter class Titan that was coming in from the east had suddenly fell to ground dead, body already beginning its rapid decomposition. However, none of his men had left from the center of the conflict, where most of the Titans were concentrated. It was when the fifth, seemingly untouched, Titan had died that Levi heard the gunshot, a noise that was loud enough to rival that of a Wall-mounted cannon, but it was soft enough to be drowned out by the chaos of the battle.

As another giant fell to the edge of his blades, the corporal half-distractedly scanned the canopy above and tracing every possible trajectory of the round that offed the more recent Titan. Watching his squad mop up the last of the abominations, Levi was free to take a closer look at the new corpse that fortunately took a longer time at evaporating. Eyes instinctively flying to the nape, he noted that there was, in fact, not much of a nape at all. Instead, the Titan had look like it was completely decapitated by an explosive force, almost like a small cannon round was used on its death.

Even more strange, for as Levi recalled that some of the Titans had fallen in random locations, indicating that whoever or whatever possessed a weapon powerful enough to destroy a Titan's nape, was either here in numbers and/or was strong and smart enough to displace themselves in a different position after firing a shot.

To say the corporal was currently intrigued would be putting it lightly.

"Corporal Levi!"

Lazily shifting his eyes to an amber-haired soldier, that by miracle happened to be shorter than Levi himself, the corporal raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The rest of the team has just made contact with an unknown soldier. His weapons and uniforms are foreign and beyond recognition. They are holding position and awaiting your orders" Petra Ral reported.

"Hm. I'll be there soon. Gather two scouts and establish a perimeter around the stranger. Patrol the upper canopy of the trees and keep an eye out for anyone else like the soldier. I have reason to believe he might not be alone."

"Eh!?" Petra seemed surprised at the fact but quickly regained her bearing, "Er, yes sir! Right away, Corporal!"

And with a zip and a hiss of her 3-Dimensional Maneuver Gear, Levi's fellow squadmate and subordinate flew off back in the direction of the main group. Giving the now-skeletal corpse a final look, the Corporal took to the trees once more, his mood now more satisfied than usual.

'At least something interesting happened on this crappy expedition. Lost fifteen men today and all we manage to do out of that is take a nice shit in the woods' he thought.

* * *

I had my empty hands raised over my head, R-101C slung away. While the soldiers were quite a distance away and only equipped with swords, I knew better than to antagonize potential allies that had the advantage of the high ground over me. Nor did I ignore the speed that could be given to them thanks to the crude maneuvering gear that they all wore.

Still, my right hand had barely twitched, for the idea of drawing either the Smart Pistol or Terra was not too far from my mind. Despite of my steady nerve, I was still quite unused to situations that involved people that may or may not become hostile. Last time I was in a similar situation, it ended up with me taking a full shotgun blast to a chest.

I was not eager at the very thought of being at the wrong end of those blades, to say the least.

Fortunately, I was still in contact with Roger, and as I noted the light blue arrow that moved across my HUD's mini-map, he was getting into a more viable sniping position, covering my unguarded flanks just in case things went south. However, judging from the radio transmission I had just received, he was less than happy at the whole deal.

"That's the second time you buggered up today. Thinking you should have stayed home instead, mate?"

"The giant I rodeoed was fast. Stryder fast. Carried me right into the thick of it."

"And now you're got yourself nicked again. Just relax and play your words right. I got my cross-hairs on the tall one there. If you screw this one up, though, just give the signal and move like a possum up the gum tree. They won't know what hit them."

Before I could reply to Roger however, one of the soldiers began shouting at me.

"My name is Gunther Schultz! We are the Scouting Legion and we have you surrounded! Identify yourself and prove to us whether you be friend or foe!"

I raised a curious eyebrow as the soldier finished his demands. The man had spoken English but there was slight mix of German within his words that I was able to make some sense of.

Curling one of my hands into a fist while raising one finger, I hoped that the hand signal for 'wait for one minute' was universal. The soldiers had made no movement but neither did they relax. Instead, the speaker and a few of his companions looked even tenser, the grip on their weapons almost white knuckled.

Talk about a tough crowd.

Regardless, I took a deep breath and began to remove my helmet. No point in wearing a full-face cover that was designed for some psychological warfare. Most pilot helmets were designed with some shock trooper elements in mind, an excellent factor in making enemies and then terrifying them afterwards.

As for making new allies?

Judging from the looks on the soldiers' face, not so much.

With a twist and a small hiss, I removed my assault helmet. I instinctively shook my head; an unnecessary movement considering my hair was cut pretty short. Tucking the protective headgear under my left arm, I re-raised my right arm in peace, albeit at a lower height, decreasing the distance between my hand and my sidearm.

Fortunately, my subtle movement was unneeded. Seeing my face was enough to ease the soldiers, albeit some of them were confused and even a few were shocked. No thanks to my uniform and weapons, I had probably looked like a spaceman who got his ass flung across time and space. Oh, wait a minute.

Ignoring their apprehension, I began to speak.

"My name is Garrett Nguyen, crewman of the _Red-Eye_ and a soldier of the Frontier Militia! I got no quarrel with you folks! I'm a scout, like you guys! I'm just here to find out what's going on with all these giants and to help my friends who are still stuck out there! And maybe, help you guys too if it is within reason."

Silence had reigned for what seemed like an eternity before Gunther pull aside one of his fellow men and sent him off, probably to alert their highest commanding officer. As the soldiers began to whisper back and forth, I looked over each and every one of their expressions. So far, confusion was still evident across their faces. A few were debating heatedly, throwing some mistrustful looks my way while others were just plain curious. But so far, none of them had the expression of hate or recognition of my words about the Frontier, let alone my affiliation with the Militia.

After consulting with a very short soldier that had just arrive, who I also assumed was the squad leader, Schultz turn back to me and yelled out.

"You will follow us back to the main encampment! Be warned, if you try anything against us, we will not hesitate to kill you!"

Fair enough, I thought.

As we began to move out, a few of the soldier sheathed their swords, detaching and storing away the blades from what was the control handles of their maneuvering equipment I figured. However, the soldiers closer to me in the formation still remained armed. Considering the fact that a few of them had witness the firepower of my carbine, they were blamelessly wary of me and my weapons.

Roger began to radio in.

"So how did it go?"

"So far, so good," I whispered, "I'm still in one piece and we're heading to their camp. We might even get a chat with their commanding officer, too."

"_You_ might have a chat with their commanding officer," my mentor replied with the heavy emphasis on you, "I just dodged a search team, would've been nicked too if it wasn't for Lorck's gadgets. I'll be in the background for support, just in case. Until you judge it's safe for the both of us, best not to talk about me yet."

"Hear you loud and clear. Misfit Two, out."

* * *

Commander Erwin Smith could only silently and stoically grimace at the dead and wounded that were being brought in. Although most people at first would see the blond commander as an uncaring and unfeeling leader, it is only the veteran men and women within the Recon Corps realize that Smith had no time to mourn for the fallen. He was the head of humanity's only chance of discovering the secrets of the Titans and thus, held the responsibility of mankind's freedom from the walls. A task that many within the Walls had considered pointless as it was hopeless.

But Erwin Smith had not become the commander of the Scouting Legion by wallowing in hopelessness. He was a man of risk and calculation. If the loss of his humanity and his life was the part of the price of humanity's return to being the dominant species of the world, then so be it.

Still the loss of lives was still regrettable. While the preliminary formation had reduced the amount of those who were killed-in-action on the way to the Forest of Giant Trees, it still needed improvement. Quietly, Erwin reviewed other possible formation designs that would be able to remain coherent during the chaos of battle and yet maximize the soldiers' abilities and range to communicate.

"Erwin" a deep, stoic voice called out to him.

Recognizing the informal address as one of the Commander's strongest soldier and top lieutenants, Smith turned to face Corporal Levi.

Well, he faced him as best as he could despite the massive difference in height between the two.

"What is it Corporal?"

"We have found a foreign soldier in the woods. He possesses advanced weapon and equipment. He also claims to be a scout for a Frontier Militia and needs help for his friends, whoever or whatever they are."

The commander raised a curious eyebrow.

"Interesting. A soldier from outside the walls? Perhaps he is a scout from an outside civilization that is trying to reach out to us?" the Commander wondered out loud.

"Or a spy for an invasion force" Levi deadpanned.

Erwin quietly nodded.

"Only one way to find out. Bring him in, full escort. Try to disarm him as peacefully as possible, otherwise, keep him at swords length."

* * *

Before I was allowed to enter the command tent, the escorts had asked if I was willing to give up my weapons. I agreed to an extent, only choosing to disarm my R-101C and my Sidewinder. But I had protested that my Smart Pistol and Wingman remain untouched much to their dismay, but the remained silent and apprehensive as ever. After safeing and unloading the weapons, I walked into the canvas-covered structure.

A simple wooden table sat in the center of tent, where a tall, blond man stood at the ready, arms folded behind him. Next to him stood the short officer I spotted after the battle and I could not help but notice the sheer difference in height. Either the shorter man was truly skilled enough to be put in a position of power or, as I noticed the fancy collar that he wore, had the money to compensate for it. Despite of his fancy and clean appearance, there was a look on his seemingly bored face that reminded me of the ex-convicts and criminals that I had the displeasure of running into during my time in the Militia.

The taller commander, however, had all the markings of an IMC officer that was fresh from the Core Worlds. With hair that looked perfectly combed and an unwavering, blue-eye gaze, the man reminded me of Earth's older generals that had fought before the invention of basic spaceflight. Professional, calculating, and uncompromising, I could almost see the threat assessments and witness reports the man was creating in his mind.

Silence had reign through the tent for a minute, before the commander began to speak.

"I am Commander Erwin Smith, leader of the Scouting Legion. Though my men have already asked you before, I'll ask you again. Who are you and where do you come from?"

"I'm Lance Corporal Garrett Nguyen, soldier of the M-COR Brigade of the Frontier Militia, and at the moment, their acting representative. As for where I come from, that's a little more difficult to explain. I guess you can say I'm from the colony town of Daven, but let's just say you won't be finding that place on any of your maps. Still I came here to look for answers and help, not to fight."

"Hm, we may be able to provide both, if you can answer our questions," Erwin said, "How is it that you manage to get this far in? How did you manage to avoid the titans as well?"

"Titans," I said as my eyebrows rose, "is that what those things were called?" I asked as I jerked my thumb in the general direction of the recent fight.

The shorter man spoke up but his tone of voice sounded irritable.

"You are avoiding the questions, stranger" he said pointedly like I had just stabbed his grandmother.

"Levi," the commander said calmly as he raised an arm in front of the aforementioned officer. Apparently the blond commander had not missed the veiled accusation as well. He did not bother to think none of it, as Smith returned his attention back to the questioning, AKA the interrogation.

"You seem surprise of our usage of their name, but you also recognize it as well. Why is it that?"

"We also have something that we called Titans back home, but they are very different than those things back there."

"How so?" Levi asked suspiciously.

"Well for starters, they don't look like nude, giant humans that try to eat actual humans on a daily basis," I nearly retorted, "as for how I got here, I was flown in by dropship."

"Pardon?"

I had nearly smacked my forehead at my own ignorance. While these soldiers were not unfamiliar with the concept of flight, given the fancy equipment that sat at their hips, I had just recalled that anything that relied on electricity was going to be completely alien to them, if the oil lamp that sat on the table and the horses and wagons outside were anything to go by.

But then again, I did come down from an honest-to-gods spaceship.

"A dropship, is err, a flying craft that we use for personal and cargo transport. Its ability to take-off and land vertically or 'drop' is usually why we call it a dropship."

"Is that so?" Erwin mused, more to himself than anybody else, "You speak of belonging to 'Militia' and holding the rank of corporal. You are part of a military force, no?"

"Technically, yes" I said after a few seconds of deciding my words and choosing not to talk about the more unsavory elements of the Frontier Militia, namely the ex-cons and the pirates to be specific, "but officially? No. If anything, we have been little more than a group of guerrilla fighters until recently."

"Nonetheless, your unit must fight for a purpose at least. What is it? Defense? Colonization?"

I gave them the most stereotypical answer any Militia fighter worth his or her land could give.

"Freedom."

* * *

"Commander, do you really think it is wise to lead them back to the district like this?" Levi asked.

"If Garrett speaks true of his organization's cause, there will be no doubt that they will be sympathetic to our mission to free humanity from the walls" Erwin spoke assuredly to his subordinate.

"Still, I don't trust them," Levi said as he glanced from his saddle, "especially how he withheld the information of his friend up to the very last minute."

"Were we in their shoes, would we be so different?" Smith asked, "After all, our promise of supplies and protection were more than enough to quickly gain the soldier's trust. It is highly likely that whoever the Militia are, they are in a position of need. With that in mind, hopefully they will at least be willing to accept an alliance between us. Still, we do not have the time to discuss more. The behaviors of the titans today are strange and their numbers are less than what we have usually encountered. We must make haste back to Trost."

* * *

"Whaaaa?! You're saying that the gunpowder is stored in an expendable cartridge alongside the bullet?! Ingenious!" the goggled-glassed woman practically squeed on her horse.

Of all the friendlier soldiers in the Scouting Legion, I happened to be paired up with the one who happen to have a fan-girl of the man-eating giants. And science. Already, I could imagine the girl dressed in a dusty lab coat and playing hell with Bish's gadgets or a scrapped Spectre drone, cackling loudly about how the applications to making cyber-titans were countless.

Slightly shaking my head to clear the wayward thoughts, I focused on maintaining my balance on my borrowed horse. While Roger had the luxury and experience of living on a ranch during his younger years, I however, did not. I considered horses a rare sight, since they were used by the poorer colonists that lived on the fringes of the Frontier, practically on planets that have just been started to be inhabited by us humans. Thankfully Roger, in a rare instance of being a helpful teacher, had given me a few pointers at first but they did little from stopping my horse from wandering off to find some grass to munch on.

As we rode on horseback to the one of the settlements behind the walls, Hange Zoë was saddled, pardon the pun, with the task of giving us a crash course of everything that happened in the last couple of years or so.

Apparently the current year was 850. That had thrown me in quite the loop, considering the large amount of anachronisms that surrounded us. Nonetheless, Hange went on to explain that no one really knew where the titans originated, other than the fact that their appearance was swift and terrible, catching the whole of humanity off guard. In response, cannons were designed to kill or at least slow the giants, but after learning the nigh-invincibility they all possessed, the remainders of the human race decided to build the Walls. Humanity enjoyed a couple years of relative peace and safety within the large structures, with the only contact with the rest of the hazardous, outside world being the Survey Corps, the very same legion that I was riding alongside with.

Unfortunately, it had turned out that five years ago, the outermost Wall, designated Maria was breached by one of the largest titans ever recorded in existence. Said to be sixty meters tall (or two-hundred feet for us stubborn Frontier folk), the so-called Colossal Titan had appeared and disappeared without a trace, but it's brief attack was devastating enough to cause the human survivors to lose a third of their territory and more so for their population. Even more disturbing were the reports of an Armored Titan that had smashed the innermost gate of the Wall, practically dooming the rest of the land within Maria.

Roger and I exchanged glances, particular perturbed at the increasing similarity between the war machines that we were oh-so-familiar with and the rare 'deviant' titan, as Hange would call it. However, much to our small relief, the Armored Titan was never seen again alongside the Colossal Titan, but that did not stop me from wondering where they were now.

The ride back to the human district was uneventful, a rare surprise for many of the veteran members of the Survey Corps. According to Zoë, expeditions made by the corps were not without heavy loss, hence why many of the civilians considered the military branch for those who were either insane and/or suicidal. Usually, the route back was plagued with pursuing or ambushing titans. Our journey, however, was uninterrupted. As I scanned the faces of the scouts, fear and confusion was the most common feature I saw. The lack of titans made them extremely alert, for any sign of reprieve that existed outside of the Walls was either extremely brief or false.

After a countless amount of hours and miles had passed, we began to see the reason of our steady ride. As the whole wall began to loom over our path, glimpses of smoke peeked over the edges, complimented with the sound of chaos and battle. The scouts all shouted in alarm, and even Hanji lost her nerdy composure, shock and terror evident across her face as everyone spotted the gaping hole in the gigantic barrier. Flesh-titans of all shapes and sizes entered through the breach like sharks drawn to the scent of blood.

"How is this possible!? Where are the defensive cannons?!" yelled one of the scouts in disbelief.

"How could this happen?!" yelled another.

Erwin, however, true to his position as top commander, quickly began shouting orders.

"Levi! Take your team and escort the foreigners through the breach. The rest of you, switch over to your 3-Dimensional Maneuvering Gear! We will ascend the walls and take back Trost! We will not allow the titans to defeat humanity once again!"

* * *

Data File – Stryder Titan

As the latest in Hammond Robotics' line of mechanized war-machines, the Stryder is a Titan with the concept of "high-speed and low drag" applied throughout its design. A Stryder uses its high speed and maneuverability to overwhelm and harass slower moving units, while providing rapid support to friendlier units. However, due to the fact that the chassis is considered little more than a stripped-down Titan unit; a Stryder lacks much in the area of durability and can be quickly overwhelmed if cornered by superior firepower. Hit-and-run tactics are not just a common feature among Stryder pilots; they are necessity.

* * *

AN: While I could have portrayed the negotiations between the Militia pilots and Scouts a whole lot better, I kept running into this nice little mental barrier that is known as writer's block. And my own ineptitude and impatience at writing such conversation. So instead of trying to hum-and-haw my through that particular bit for the whole summer and risk leaving this story dead and dusty on my hard-drive forever, I decided to gorram it all and rush towards the action of the story. But hey, when the titans are on the attack, better to save the questions for later, eh?


	5. Chapter 5 Counterattack

Author's Notes

To Tormound: Yeah, in-game pilots carry a lot of ammo for their weapons that is not only almost impossible (read: borderline ridiculous) to run out and yet maintain the high speeds you can reach within the game, unless you're actively avoiding your own titan and wall-running respectively. But story wise, since Garrett already has his R-101C, Wingman, Sidewinder, the ammo that comes with them, and all of the other standard knick-knacks that a soldier in the future will need in the field, hauling an extra pistol is kinda pushing it, especially for soldiers that rely on superior speed and mobility over firepower and whatnot. In other words, I'm trying to portray these pilots somewhere along the lines as a 'lightning bruiser' with more emphasis on the 'lightning' part. And yes, a Titanfall before college is imminent…

Disclaimer: Yada, yada, I don't own _SnK _or _Titanfall_, dunka, dunka.

* * *

Chapter 5: Counterattack

_The ride back to the human district was uneventful, a rare surprise for many of the veteran members of the Survey Corps. According to Zoë, expeditions made by the corps were not without heavy loss, hence why many of the civilians considered the military branch for those who were either insane and/or suicidal. Usually, the route back was plagued with pursuing or ambushing titans. Our journey, however, was uninterrupted. As I scanned the faces of the scouts, fear and confusion was the most common feature I saw. The lack of titans made them extremely alert, for any sign of reprieve that existed outside of the Walls was either extremely brief or false._

_After a countless amount of hours and miles had passed, we began to see the reason of our steady ride. As the whole wall began to loom over our path, glimpses of smoke peeked over the edges, complimented with the sound of chaos and battle. The scouts all shouted in alarm, and even Hanji lost her nerdy composure, shock and terror evident across her face as everyone spotted the gaping hole in the gigantic barrier. Flesh-titans of all shapes and sizes entered through the breach like sharks drawn to the scent of blood._

_"How is this possible!? Where are the defensive cannons?!" yelled one of the scouts in disbelief._

_"How did this happen?!" yelled another._

_Erwin, however, true to his position as top commander, quickly began shouting orders._

_"Levi! Take your team and escort the foreigners through the breach. The rest of you, switch over to your 3-Dimensional Maneuvering Gear! We will ascend the walls and take back Trost! We will not allow the titans to defeat humanity once again!"_

* * *

"So we have been assigned the babysitting duties huh? Corporal, I thought we were a special operations squad, not a team of wet nurses." said a grey-haired and wrinkled-faced soldier. The guy, whose name was Oluo Bozado I would later learn, looked like an odd parody of his commanding officer, with a wrinkled handkerchief stuffed in his collar and stuck-up look to his features that made him look like another overpaid company man.

"If that is the case, then where's my bluey, _mum_?" Roger said as he stalked forward, seemingly from nowhere.

Oluo was so caught off guard by my mentor's sudden appearance; he ended up biting his own tongue hard. I would've chuckled at the upstart scout's expense, but seeing the fresh blood that just stained his teeth only made me wince. The similarity of that appearance to my first, good look at a titan's unsettling grin did not help either.

A short woman with ginger hair began to admonish the tongue biter, saying something along the lines of stop being rude to the foreigners and that trying to be like their commander officer was just making the whole squad look bad. Petra Ral was one of the friendlier team members that either had the courtesy or courage to greet Roger and me properly. Still, there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes as we introduced each other, but I had a feeling that distrust was going to be the least of our problems as we began to make way into the city.

Although it had seemed like an infinite number of titans was constantly pouring into the breach, we were lucky to catch a break in the line of the giant invaders. Oluo and Gunther, using their 3DM gear as Hange informed me, began to slingshot their way through the hole, acting as our group's pointmen. After hearing the additional zip of their wires and the blast of their gas, the duo manage to down a flesh-titan before it had crossed over the deep trench that was meant to slow the giants, a testament to their skill and experience.

Special operations squad indeed.

Firing a noise grenade from one of their crude flare guns to signal the all clear, we quickly hustled through the breach, with Eld and Levi covering the rear. At first, crossing the trenches proved to somewhat of a problem. The drawbridge had already risen, and while jumping across the gap was not unviable, it was the stranded titans that pawed at the edges of their containment that made it so. Eld and Gunther were quick to point out that although trapped, titans were known to be unpredictable and that gaining their attention was still detrimental. While the squad had the advantage of the speed and range of their equipment to cross over with ease, Roger and I did not.

Before offers were made to carry us across, we simultaneously triggered the modified cloak engines that were slung over our backs, much to the surprise of the squad. One quick leap and a duo of bursts from our jumpkits, the trenches were cleared with ease. As I deactivated the gear before the power cell went to waste and one of the squad began to have a heart attack, I was quickly distracted by the architecture and layout of the city. Although there was no doubt the walled district had seen better days, the buildings were quick to appeal to my instincts with the jumpkit. Verticality and Three-Dimensional Maneuvering may have been a necessary element to survival of these soldiers, but it was also where we Pilots thrived.

The streets were comfortably spaced wide, a manageable distance for anyone with a jumpkit or 3DM gear to jump over. However, much to my disappointment, there was some elements of the town's features that made exploiting them an exclusive target for the grapple hooks that sat at the hips of the scouts. I was quick to make another mental note to request a set of the 3DM gear, or at least, the spare parts that made the anchoring harpoons function.

However, a shout from Eld broke my attention from the ravaged townscape. Zipping over to where I stood, the blond man looked apprehensive like before, but he was quick to inform that the rest of the team had just moved to the rooftops.

"The titans are beginning to gather on this position en masse and we are beginning to advance into the city. Can the both of you keep up with your," Eld broke off as he eyed the jumpkit that adorned the small of my back questioningly, "…gear?" he said with some hesitation.

Were it not for my full-faced helmet, the scout would've seen a small grin on my face. Instead, I silently nodded an affirmative before taking off down the side of the street at full speed. Jinn gave a curse in surprise, more to himself than anyone, and began to take after his comrades. Roger followed not too far behind, but I was too caught up in my speed to notice. With one diagonal leap, I began to traverse across the side of the building, as if gravity decided to loosen its hold on me for a moment. Were it not for the current circumstances and if I was a few years younger, I would've been heard laughing at that time, due to gladness at the brief freedom from the invisible chains that prevented many from the skies. Even though I wasn't flying per say, it felt close enough.

Feeling the decay of altitude in my wall run, I was quick to kick off the building and boost myself over to the rooftops where the Corporal's squad was sprinting across. Roger had opted to take a simpler route, running up and alongside the building to join the group.

"Show-off" he said as he caught up next to me.

I only shrugged in reply, for I was currently overhearing the whispering between Gunther and Levi. Were it not for my helmet's sound filters, I would've missed the entirety of their conservation.

"Sir, do you really think it is wise to trust these soldiers? With the way they can disappear and move, they can be a bigger threat than the titans."

The short officer spared a glance in our direction, but I made sure my head faced forward to dissuade any suspicion.

"I never said I trusted them, but they seem human enough. After all, they seem to be desperate enough to seek help for their friends and that if they try anything against us, it will only hurt them all in the long run regardless."

"That's bit of a gamble don't you think, sir?"

"We are the Survey Corps. The moment all of us decided to take the fight to the titans, our whole lives became a gamble. And, right now, Erwin has decided to place his bets on these soldiers, so I will do the same. Doesn't mean we all have to like it, though."

Schultz became quiet for a moment, as if he was contemplating to himself.

"Alright sir. Although, now I think about it, these strangers could've ran off and disappeared from us as soon as we entered the Walls. The fact that they remain must speak something about their character…" he began to trail off.

Levi only gave an imperceptible nod before resuming his entire focus on the objective.

"Squad," he began, "We will need to regroup with the main force at the town center and destroy any titans that get in the way. Take extra care to keep an eye out for survivors and wounded.

"As for you two," he directed his attention to me and Bolton, "Try not to get in the way. Advanced technology or not, I can already see that it is not without limits. Feel free to help if you see the opportunity, but none of us will be at fault if either of you get eaten."

I settled for nodding my understanding, while Roger only racked the bolt of his Kraber in reply, making his intent very clear to the Corporal. Levi seemed unimpressed, but took note of the action regardless.

"I see" He simply said, "Very well. Eld, Oluo, take the old one with you and approach the center of the District from the east flank. Petra, Gunther, take the shorter one and head from the west. Use your remaining smoke flares if you find anything. I will go down straight the center, where most of the titans will be. Regroup in ten minutes. Understood?"

"Yes, Lance Corporal" the entire squad shouted. My mentor, however, gave me a look and even with his lower mask on, mouthed the words 'old one' in irritation. I only shrugged in return.

"You do remind me of my gramps for a bit," I said over the radio "Starting to look like him too. Guess the good corporal wasn't too far off the mark, eh?"

"Remind me yet again why I shouldn't blast your legs to smithereens and leave you to the giants?"

"Umm…it would be a waste of perfectly good ammunition on a very poor target?" I countered weakly.

"Whatever. See you in ten mikes."

"Same to you."

* * *

There was something about fighting that made time ebb and flow in a way that would make one minute feel like an hour and the next minute feel like a second. To make a long story shorter, over the ten minutes that was allotted to us, there was never a dull second.

Running with Ral and Schultz had also given me a closer look at their Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear, helping me get a better idea on how the equipment worked. High pressurized gas was the key to their high-speed movements, for without it, there would be no way for them to fire the grappling anchors, let alone create the most simple of pendulum maneuvers. In other words, gas was life and judging from the way the scouts regulated their trigger fingers, it looked like they were getting close to running out.

Still, the duo managed to make do, switching positions every time we encountered a titan, one would act as a decoy, while the other would move in for the killing blow. Four titans had fallen so far to their teamwork, while we had managed to evade six with complication.

"Oldest trick in the book" Gunther yelled out after another successful kill. My role during the mission was fairly minor, choosing only to alert the two of any incoming titans, making the full use of my active radar vision. I would take the occasional shot at one of the giant's eyes with my rifle, but sometimes the members of the Special Operations squad would already have the same idea in mind, forcing me to hold my trigger finger least there be a bad case of friendly fire. Using my Sidewinder was out of the question, for that particular piece of ordnance has been known to have a large spread. The last thing I needed was to explain to the Survey Corps on why one of their best soldiers had turned into burnt paste when I was just trying to help.

However, it had seemed that one of the titans was a little smarter than its slower reacting brethren. Deciding that with me being on the sidelines, I was a more vulnerable target. Gunther flew in front of the nearly-bald giant's face, a risky attempt at trying to divert its attention. Despite of the chance of a closer meal, the titan ignored him, trampling over one of its smaller brethren, straight over to the building where I took post.

Petra was quick to shout out the very words on our minds.

"DEVIANT TITAN! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

By the time the words left her mouth, the aforementioned giant was already upon me. Instead of grabbing or snapping its sick grin at me, the titan had chosen to body slam the very roof I stood upon. Half running and half sliding off the shingled incline, I narrowly dodged the titan, its emancipated torso now covering the entire side of the building's top.

Unpredictable and twice as dangerous as a standard flesh-titan, Deviant or Abnormal titans were one of the reasons why understanding and fighting the man-eating giants was always an unforgiving business. Hanji had made sure to inform me that the running titan I was caught eliminating belonged to the same classification. While not fully intelligent, deviants were known to be very cunning and adept in killing the most veteran of soldiers. A shame, she said, for she had high hopes of capturing an abnormal for study. I had barely held my mouth from calling her insane.

As the body-slamming giant began to prop itself off the still-standing building it landed on, my hand flew to the pack of explosives that sat in my thigh pouch. A recent conversation with the Survey Corps local mad scientist was at the forefront of my mind.

_"Is there any other way to cripple or injure a titan besides taking out the eyes?"_

_"Well, of course! A titan's exterior anatomy is remarkably like that of a human's. Slicing the tendons is one way, like the one in the back of lower leg, right above the heel for example."_

_"The Achilles tendon, you mean?"_

_"Eh?! What's Achilles?"_

_"Never mind that, but if someone did manage to take out that tendon, the titan will be crippled right?"_

_"Yep! Just like a person. Of course, no one really does it that often; only veterans like Levi do it now and then if the opportunity and conditions are right. Even then it's still a big risk, getting stepped on and whatnot. Not to mention with a titan's natural regeneration ability, it's only good for buying time or retreating from a battle."_

Arming the satchel that was in my hand, I ran over to plant the charge on the back of the titan's leg, ignoring cries of alarm and warning from the pair of scouts.

"What is he doing?"

"He's insane, I should have known!"

"Get out of there!"

After checking the explosive was properly set, I did just that, bounding up and away from the recovering giant, wall running my way to where Gunther and Petra stood. I had barely grabbed onto the edge, but the two scouts had helped haul me up by the arms. Pulling out the satchel's remote, I gave them a brief warning.

"Might want to cover your ears, if I were you. But be ready to move in for the kill."

Petra had immediately stepped forward, anger and confusion on her face.

"What are you talking about? You know what you just did-"

"Just trust me on this, please," I interrupted her as I spammed the trigger on the detonator, "Cranking Steel!"

At this point the titan had just gotten up on its two feet and was about to make way to our occupied roof. Before it even began to break stride, the satchel charge exploded, blasting away its lower part of the leg. The remote ordnance had a better effect on target than I initially thought, for the titan's foot was now no more than a shredded stump, heavy amounts of steam pouring out from the wound. If the giant could, it would have looked shocked at its sudden loss of balance. Much to my small disappointment, the dazed, grinning look was still plastered to its face, even when it began to fall on it the second time that day.

Ral and Schultz were quite alarmed at the sudden explosion, causing them to flinch on instinct. While the people of this Earth were not unfamiliar with explosives, if the flintlock firearms and wall-mounted cannons were anything to go by, it was obvious that they had nothing on the same scale and portability.

I still had to give them credit though, for they had recovered quickly enough to exploit the giant's new weakness. The kill had gone to Petra this time, but she was still somewhat grateful of my assist. Gunther had looked like he was regretting the choice words that he had in mind for me, for he was rubbing the back of his head, mumbling an apology.

"Nothing to be sorry about. I apologize for not warning you guys earlier, but the chance was too good to pass up" I said as I waved him off.

"Well, I can't speak for the rest of the team, but anyone that helps us in the fight against the titans like the way you did is alright in my book" Gunther replied after he stopped rubbing his head, "But I do believe that we did not have a proper greeting," he said as he raised a hand for me to shake, "Gunther"

I shook the hand without hesitation.

"Garret"

Petra was somewhat smiling, her expression more relieved at the fact that I was genuinely here to help. She raised her hand to shake as well.

"Petra. Thanks for the help; I didn't think Schultz and I could have taken that titan down that fast without your quick thinking. That was quite the…explosion you made" she said with some reluctance.

I returned the shake, giving her a near imperceptible nod of thanks. While I wasn't one to admit it, I was a bit of a fan of pyrotechnics of various sorts, so long as I was right outside the danger zone at least. To have someone thank me for my pet hobby was somewhat fulfilling to say the least, even when the explosive I used was only standard issue and not of my own making.

"A lot of power in such a small package," Gunther murmured to himself, "Say, what did you mean by 'cranking steel'?"

"Short story, long tale. I'll explain more after all of this is over."

* * *

As Gunther's team made their way toward the main group, Jinn, Bozado, and Bolton had ran into a problem of their own. To begin, Oluo had run out of gas during mid-flight. Fortunately, the veteran scout had noticed in time to brace his body for a somewhat, gentle landing from the abrupt descent. Unfortunately, said landing had taken place in the middle of the street, where several of the smaller titans were infesting. Although eight were only counted, it was a number too many.

"Damn it Bozado, you just had to try to emulate some of Levi's maneuvers today, didn't you?" Eld said, somewhat strangely calm despite of the fact that his fellow comrade was stranded below.

"Well you know what they say, if you don't practice now, you'll have no hope of mastering it later!" the grey-haired soldier shouted back, his expression the very least worried for a man that was surrounded by human-hungry giants. Despite of his bravado, Oluo was wise enough to keep an eye on the closest of the titans, a three meter class that had brown hair.

Roger was silent as always, his Kraber rifle aimed rock steady at the approaching horde, trigger-finger ready to pull.

"Guess we're babysitting the babysitter," the Australian simply stated to the ponytailed scout, his eye never as so much as leaving the view of his scope.

Eld was nearly startled, for the older of the two Militia soldiers had mostly kept to himself during the mission. Judging from how the masked man had assisted the scouts more by shooting than speaking, Jinn assumed that Roger Bolton was a man of action. A resounding crack and boom erupted from the marksman's heavy rifle, followed by a pained moaned of a newly blinded titan. Oluo had quickly taken the most of the opportunity, flanking the giant and scrambling up its back to get to the nape. A single cut was more than enough to put it out of its misery.

Actions spoke louder than words indeed.

However the recently dispatched titan was still only a single drop in an entire bucket. While Bolton's shot was nearly critical in helping the stranded scout, its loudness had attracted the attention of the more distant, and larger, titans.

"I don't suppose you have enough rounds to take care all of them do you?" asked Jinn.

Much to both of their dismay, Roger was forced to reload his weapon, cycling the Kraber's bolt and indexing the empty magazine. While Eld was unfamiliar with the firearms wielded by the foreign soldiers, he could already tell that they had a finite capacity. While each shot fired by the heavy rifle was several times more effective against the titans than any musket made by the factories in the innermost walls, there were more titans than bullets in their current situation. Even Roger took notice, for his ammo bandolier had an uncomfortable lightness to them.

"Wish I did," he said, firing another round that ripped through the throat of a five-meter high giant. The round had barely struck the nape, but the 14.5×114mm caliber bullet had more than enough power to irreversible destroy it. Bolton barely bit back a curse, for that kill was not as clean as he wanted it to be, for he had swapped out his explosive rounds before entering the wall to conserve them. However, he was still slow to adjust his aim to accommodate the more common, but no less deadly, ammunition.

'Damn, I'm getting old' he thought. Turning to the scout, he continued his reply.

"I only got enough to buy time for your man in there, actually got more than enough if these damn things would stop regenerating."

"Indeed, but even if he did manage to get up here, there is the matter of gas. He will be dead in the water and leaving him behind is out of the question."

"Hmm, troublesome," Bolton quietly replied, "Got any of those flares? Calling for help doesn't seem to be a bad idea at the moment."

The ponytailed blond only shook his head.

"No. Unfortunately, I had not the time to resupply on the ones that would alert our allies. The ones I have now will only misinform them."

The Militia pilot, however, was not at all worried, turning his head away from the sound of battle and placing one hand on the side of his helm, all the better to hear from his communications gear. He began to speak, seemingly to himself, albeit Eld began to look at him strangely.

"Misfit One to Misfit Two. We hit a snag on our end. Think you can get you and your buddies over here?"

Garrett's voice began to resound from the helm, as if the younger soldier was in it himself. Jinn nearly jumped off the roof in surprise, but held his blade in check. 'So the two men had means to communicate through thin air, not the immediate problem to anybody right now,' the scout thought to himself.

_"Misfit Two to One. Hear you loud and clear. Define snag."_

"The wrinkly one got himself stranded. We're holding our position, only got small fry to deal with but some of the big ones are starting to take notice. Might want to tell those two to get moving, their squadmate is about to get eaten."

_"Hear you loud and clear. Misfit Two, out."_

* * *

Removing my hand from the comm set of my helmet, I turned back to Gunther and Petra, who were just finished with swapping the scavenged gas tanks of their maneuver gear. A destroyed military supply cart was found on our way back to the main group, but there were no survivors. The titans that overran that particular area had seen to that. Bloody remains of a tattered military jacket, adorned with the patches of two intertwined roses, was the only sign that indicated the so-called Garrison Division's presence. The two scouts were forced to take a passive role, standing on the rooftops and banging their swords together as I made a run for the scattered supplies. It was unwieldy, carrying an armload of gas tanks and blade boxes while wall-running, but it was not impossible slipping past the titans, thanks to my active camo.

As the two began checking each other's gear, I spoke to them of the other team's current situation. Questioning on how I was able to know such information, I just simply tapped the side of my helmet and gave them another variation of the 'I tell you later, assuming we are all still alive to do so' statement.

"Damn! We're too far in our side of the mission to help them now!" Gunther remarked angrily.

"What about the main force or the Corporal? Surely we could run into them and gain their support if we go now," asked the amber-eyed scout.

"If we could, there is still the matter of where they are? A general direction can only help so much."

With that in mind the two turned their attention to me once more. Giving the town a quick glance, I began to speak.

"Location wise, I know where Roger is and by proxy, your squad mates too. Problem is, while any of us can get there in time, there are still a whole lot of titans between here and there. And like Gunther said, we still haven't finish with our sweep. The way I see it, if we want to help the second team and get further into town, splitting up is our only option."

Ral and Schultz began to exchange a look of worry, before one of them answered my suggestion.

"With only the three of us, one of will have to go alone. With that many titans on all sides, it will be a suicide run either way" said Petra with much grievance in her tone.

"Then I will make the run for the second team. The two of you have much more experience dealing with the giants anyway; I've been only tagging along. I have the means of locating Roger and the others as well as the abilities to slip past the titans. Won't be easy, but I done something similar before."

Looking at Gunther to see if he had an alternative solution, the black-haired scout could only shake his head.

"He's right. We don't have much of a choice and time is running short. Best be going on your way, Garrett. The titans are beginning to take note of us here. Good luck."

With the hiss and zip that accommodate the 3DM gear, the two scouts were off, both of them throwing occasional glances to where I was. I had already started in my run, going off to the east, according to the minimap that was constantly being updated as I moved. It was going to be quite the distance, but complaining about it wasn't going to get me there faster.

* * *

Ever heard the saying that no best-laid plan survives contact with the enemy?

Turns out it also applies to even the simplest of plans as well.

Being a fighter on the Frontier for some time, I have been on both sides of a 'royally screwing up a plan', whether it's running interference with enemy formations or scrambling to recover from a hostile ambush, to name a few. The latter has been occurring to me more often though, but I always chalked it up with the IMC always having the better equipped and better organized units.

But now, as I lay amongst the dirt and rubble of what was formerly a general store's shelf, judging from the goods that were just crushed and ruined, I decided that the galaxy was actually just out to get me.

My mission, after all, was borderline foolproof. There were only three steps; trace and get a lock on Misfit Lead aka Roger, get to his position, avoid getting eaten by the flesh-titans. What could have possibly gone wrong with that?

Well, several things actually.

Equipment failure for one has always been a popular and notorious one that any soldier worth his or her life would best try to avoid throughout the centuries. Lack of intel was another, but that didn't apply to my case here. Since I was an avid reader, it wasn't until I discovered a thing or two about "Murphy's Law", and I made sure to keep some of the more life-saving (and laugh-worthy) tips in mind.

Trying to avoid being backhanded by a three-story tall, man-eating, bullet-soaking, giant that somehow blindsided me despite of the high-tech sensors that were linked inside of my helmet was not one of them.

But then again, I suppose the "if your plan is going too well, then the enemy is planning an ambush" one would apply here.

Pushing myself upright, I quickly shook off the minor disorientation that I took from going through a glass window, brushing off the excess dust and glass that had gathered on my worn and tattered flight-suit. Glancing around to see where my rifle had fallen, I was glad to see it only lay at my feet. Picking up the R-101C and checking to see if it was still functional, I had only managed to reactivate the 2.1x Holo-sight before a pale, meaty hand reached out to grab me, the same one that had caused me flying through the general store's main window in the first place.

Narrowly dodging the giant's attack with a quick tumble to the side, I quickly reasserted my position into a crouch and took aim at the its eye. An easy task, for the titan was lying on its belly, arm outstretched into the building like a child trying to retrieve his toy that was lost under the sofa. Clicking the trigger down, I was expecting to have a burst of hot lead to hone in on my target, but my weapon failed to cooperate.

The trigger remained stiff.

The safety was on.

Oops.

Oops turned into 'holy scheisse, I'm dead' as the titan quickly shifted its arm backwards in another attempt to have a swipe at me, its flesh skidding off the floorboards to prevent me from evading its attempts like before.

Jumping a good five feet in the air, I quickly flared my jumpkit forward, narrowly clipping my head on the ruined rooftop and nailing a three-point landing on the titan's forearm. Breaking forward into a run as a I landed, I quickly sprinted up past the elbow before the giant began to push itself up. I had briefly considered stopping to eliminate its nape; however, as my balance shifted as the titan began to stood up, I chose to scramble to the rooftops, activating my cloak as soon as it just recharged. As I crossed over to the other side of the building's roof, I instantly dropped to a prone position, the tip of my (invisible) helmet and (activated) weapon sticking out over the edge, both focused on the titan I had narrowly escaped.

As the giant stood to it full height, it began to scan the area around the street with its freakishly wide eyes, mouth stuck in a permanent pout, as if it was simply disappointed for the lack of a meal. It soon began to look to the rooftops, and as its gaze passed over where I hid, I nearly held my breath, both in apprehension and to better steady my shot.

Never let one say that fear is a good motivator to screw with someone's shooting skills; the opposite effect may occur.

However, the bullet still remained in my carbine's chamber for the moment. The titan still remained unaware of my presence, assuming that I was already out of reach, and it began to lumber off in the direction of the town's center. Double checking that I was alone for the time being, I stood up to my full height, with the adrenaline wearing off, making my nerves begin to feel the dull pain of having one's body smashing through a layer of glass and wood and what was probably a display table worth of general goods.

Before I could resume my course, a loud scream tore through the air, only a block away from where I stood. Shouts of warning and cries of fear caused me to hesitate. The urge to investigate and help as many people as I could was becoming an annoying trait of mine that had often come into conflict with my objectives. Trying to be hero was not something that thrived on the battlefield and my attempts at rescuing stranded civilians and fellow Militia had often landed me in hot water and not all attempts were successful. To deviate from my main course would only put Bolton and the rest of the squad at risk, thus compromising the entire operation.

To attempt a rescue would only be a lesson that would end in futility and death.

But I'll be damned nonetheless, if I didn't try.

* * *

_"Misfit Two to Misfit Lead, I'm not going to make it on time. Might have to play our aces sooner than we think."_

"I hear you loud and clear, five minutes till contact with Red-Eye is back online. I'll patch it over to you when I can, kid"

_"Five minutes, huh? Just like Smuggler's Cove, right? Shouldn't be too hard…"_

"Seven minutes, actually. You still owe me a tequila with a worm after that mess"

_"Yeah, yeah…but listen, sorry for not making it on time. Guess that makes two, huh?"_

"Listen mate, if you're not going to make it, then you're not going to make it. Just try not to get yourself eaten for your heroics, eh?"

_"Wha? What makes you say that?"_

"The fact I've survived some of them makes me more or less an expert at when you about to do something incredibly stupid. Now get a move on, I got hostiles popping up all over the map"

Click. Beep-beep.

The blitzing buzz of an arc mine activating was an indicator to Roger that it was time to leave. Lightning arced up and down the unfortunate titan that had stepped into the alley where the sniper was taking refuge in, seizing up the insensitive, but not resistant, nervous system of the giant. The titan fell to the ground with a violent shudder, slight confusion in what remained of its mind on why its muscles refused to respond.

The marksman pilot only briskly walked past the spasming giant, only sparing the barest of glances at the back of its neck. Stroking the trigger of his heavy rifle, the 14.5×114mm round ruptured through the titan's nape with extreme force, leaving behind a wound channel that practically decapitated it. Cycling the bolt to clear the empty shell from his weapon, Roger could only grimace as he exchanged magazines, sliding the second to last box of ammunition into his Kraber.

_'I'm going to have scrub playing schmuck bait for these things,'_ Roger thought to himself as he walked back onto the main street that was currently occupied by a slew of titans that the sniper had narrowly avoided. The giant, human caricatures turned almost in unison towards Bolton, their frozen, zombielike expressions uncanny as ever.

_'Between me and those scouts, we don't the blades and bullets to hold them off like this…better make this one count, kid.'_

* * *

_"This is the Red-Eye to Misfit. What is your current status?"_

"Misfit Two to Red-Eye," I shouted into my radio, "we are facing heavy opposition and in dire need of that support!"

"We got a pair of 10-meter class incoming! Team, split up and buy the foreigner some time to get away!" yelled one of the scouts.

_"What was that Misfit Two? Repeat, over."_

As it turned out, I was not the only one that was drawn to the noises of distress. Some squads of the local Garrison and a few of the Scouts had arrived on the scene. Unfortunately, some flesh-titans had also arrived, turning the deadly skirmish into a blood bath.

I had only managed to grab a uniformed kid, a trainee as I was later informed, by the scruff of his collar and throw him to the relative safety of the rooftops before I was suddenly grabbed myself in mid-flight. Fortunately, my right arm was free, allowing me to rip the Smart Pistol from its holster. Two whistling shots later, I was on the ground where I was discarded. Scrambling away from the blinded giant, I half-limped, half-ran to the last soldier, a young girl who was crying her eyes out over a corpse of all things.

"15-meter class incoming! What are you doing? Move it trainee!" yelled another guard as he spotted the younger soldier.

"Oh god, Franz, please wake up! I need you now!" cried a young trainee as she was scooped up by the aforementioned giant. She did not struggle as hard as many of the titans' victims, instead projecting her efforts in attempt to wake a boy already long dead. The flesh-titan lifted the screaming girl high above its head, opening its jaw wide like it was about to have a simple snack of grapes. Holding the young girl by her head, the giant dropped her living corpse into its mouth, slamming its teeth together at the last second. The result was gruesome, for her head was spared; her face was forever frozen with the expression of grief and fear, her last thought wondering why her loved one did not save her.

I watched as the barbaric giant indulged in its horrific meal until it locked eyes on my distant, paralyzed form on the streets. The titan was huge, the biggest I had seen all day, more than twice the size of any Titan mech I have piloted or fought. It started to make its way towards me, in a slow, deliberate manner, as if it knew that I had failed, with its distorted grin mocking me for it. Hearing the heavy plodding of the regenerated giant behind me, I knew my only hope was the battered flagship that hung over the planet.

"Sarah, I repeat, we are requesting for immediate armor support, damn it! I got fucking contacts up and down our position!" I all but shouted into my helmet's microphone. Rage and fear colored my words, breaking the usual formality I held with mission control. Knowing that such emotion was not going to me anywhere sooner, I took a gentle breath and calmly spoke into the radio.

"Code word: Steel Rain, I repeat, Steel Rain. Marking positions for drop."

"Understood, Misfit Two. They're on the way. Standby for Titanfall."

* * *

Data File – Cranking Steel

During the Titan Wars, several weapons and methods were improvised to combat the eponymous war machines. One of the most basic Anti-Titan methods was known as 'cranking steel'. The idea was simple, plant an explosive on an unsuspecting Titan's exposed leg and foot joints, evacuate to a safe distance, and detonate the charge, thus crippling the Titan and depending on how it would fall, trapping or exposing the Pilot. However, this method was only effective on the older-generation of Atlas and retrofitted, civilian Titans, and with the deployment of the Ogre units, it wasn't long before 'rodeoing' was the more favored of Titan sabotage.

* * *

AN: Cranking steel, slight reference to one of the Transformers movie, the third one to anyone who is genuinely curious. There's a scene in that movie in which the human soldiers get all sneaky-sneaky and boom. Crippled Decepticons. Pretty hard not to imagine that someone thought of the same in the Titanfall universe. Another piece of trivia, the round fired by the Kraber-AP (the 14.5×114mm) is a real bullet designed for anti-materiel rifles and heavy machine guns, but the neat thing is that the rifle shares the round with another fictional sniper weapon, the sniper rifles from the Halo series. Talk about BFGs everywhere…but since we got Titanfalls coming in next chapter, that's a given.

Speaking of chapters, I can't help but feel like I am underestimating the titans and overestimating Levi's Team in this one. Tell me what you think in the reviews and I'll try to improve my portrayal of them in the future. This is probably the longest chapter I ever written as well, thought it would be shorter, but the story thought otherwise. As for the titan that just killed off that cadet, yes, that is the same one that offs the garrison captain during Eren's boulder run. I like to think that each titan has its own personal quirk whether it comes to eating people or just being pants-crapping terrifying, because you know, **SPOILERS DETECTED: CENSOR ONLINE**.

Further AN: Just rewatched the scene that introduced Levi and it turns out there is supposed to be a bit of action OUTSIDE of the Walls before they entered Trost. Whoops. I'll have to take the flexibility that is fanfiction here, so apologies for deviating from canon, but for the sake of time, no Reluctant Heroes here. A gorram shame, since that's my favorite song…


	6. Chapter 6 Titanfall

Author's Notes: This chapter…man, I don't even know what to say. I knew from the beginning, that this was going to be the harder chapters to write, simply because the high expectations (including mine) that was going to come with it. Even more so considering I have a personal and academic deadline coming up (THIS SATURDAY! COLLEGE! WHAT?!). On a side note, considering the nature of the scenes I've written, a rating (T - M) change may or may not also be in order. Also since I had to write the ending scene from memory, deviation from canon was inevitable. Oh, wait I'm writing a crossover…so yeah, canon has been practically wrecked since the conception of this story. Apologies again if there are mistakes, but at least you know a Spectre (or Spyglass) isn't writing this.

To Tormound: Check your account's inbox for my reply to your review(s) if you haven't already. Otherwise, short version on why I chose the 40mm and XO-16 Chaingun, they're what I believe are the only titan weapons that can carry a lot of ammo without getting loaded down, with of course, exception to the Arc Cannon, which I am actually planning to add sometime in the future, whether in a possible sequel or chapter, thanks to your suggestion. Exploding titans FTW. And I retract my previous statement of trying not make this a stomp fic. Curb-stomp battles were inevitable. Well, until the Season 2 portion of _SnK_ rolls around that is…

To cj1of4: Heh, making everyone else think they got eaten by mecha, huh? Well, that was an idea I was going to write (type!) about, but sadly it had to get cut out due to pacing of the story.

To cooler: Sorry, no oneshots for a while, college and whatnot. As for Eren being a Titan pilot? WELL GEEZ, DIDYA REALLY HAVE TO GO READ MY MIND AND SHARE A STORY DIRECTION THAT I WOULD MOST LIKELY TAKE!? GOSH! GENIUS READERS THESE DAYS!

To Guest: Uh…maybe, maybe not. I didn't plan romance to be a focus of this story, but possibly in a possible chapter and/or sequel. Yes, I know, that's a lot possibilities, but I only got a skeleton outline for this crossover, which is great for me to focus on certain specific plot points and major scenes, but as for all that extra goodies, that is also known as character development and interaction, well that's almost free game. Who knows, anyone got an idea for the lady that will be messing with our Militia Pilot's head? Detailed suggestions are highly recommended, in other words convince me with a detailed explanation/argument. I like to read as much as you guys and gals. (Not to mention I suck at writing romance. I would need help.)

Again, as a reminder to clear confusion:

Titans = Titans from Titanfall, aka the mechs.

titans = Titans from Snk/Attack on Titan. Exceptions include the Colossal Titan, Female Titan, etc. since they're major characters and whatnot.

With that said, all should be well. Unless you have to read out loud. In that case, **BLEEP.**

Disclaimer: I don't own _Attack on Titan_ or _Titanfall,_ so turn off the lights, buckle your pants, shut your faces, and allow me to wrap you in the warm comfort of this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 6: Titanfall

_"This is the Red-Eye to Misfit. What is your current status?"_

_"Misfit Two to Red-Eye," I shouted into my radio, "we are facing heavy opposition and in dire need of that support!"_

_"We got a pair of 10-meter class incoming! Team, split up and buy the foreigner some time to get away!" yelled one of the scouts._

_"What was that Misfit Two? Repeat, over."_

_As it turned out, I was not the only one that was drawn to the noises of distress. Some squads of the local Garrison and a few of the Scouts had arrived on the scene. Unfortunately, some flesh-titans had also arrived, turning the deadly skirmish into a blood bath. _

_I had only managed to grab a uniformed kid, a trainee as I was later informed, by the scruff of his collar and throw him to the relative safety of the rooftops before I was suddenly grabbed myself in midflight. Fortunately, my right arm was free, allowing me to rip the Smart Pistol from its holster. Two whistling shots later, I was on the ground where I was discarded. Scrambling away from the blinded giant, I half-limped, half-ran to the last soldier, a young girl who was crying her eyes out over a corpse of all things._

_"15-meter class incoming! What are you doing? Move it trainee!" yelled another guard as he spotted the younger soldier._

_"Oh god, Franz, please wake up! I need you now!" cried a young trainee as she was scooped up by the aforementioned giant. She did not struggle as hard as many of the titans' victims, instead projecting her efforts in attempt to wake a boy already long dead. The flesh-titan lifted the screaming girl high above its head, opening its jaw wide like it was about to have a simple snack of grapes. Holding the young girl by her head, the giant dropped her living corpse into its mouth, slamming its teeth together at the last second. The result was gruesome, for her head was spared; her face was forever frozen with the expression of grief and fear, her last thought wondering why her loved one did not save her._

_I watched as the barbaric giant indulged in its horrific meal until it locked eyes on my distant, paralyzed form on the streets. The titan was huge, the biggest I had seen all day, more than twice the size of any Titan mech I have piloted or fought. It started to make its way towards me, in a slow, deliberate manner, as if it knew that I had failed, with its distorted grin mocking me for it. Hearing the heavy plodding of the regenerated giant behind me, I knew my only hope was the battered flagship that hung over the planet._

_"Sarah, I repeat, we are requesting for immediate armor support, damn it! I got fucking contacts up and down our position!" I all but shouted into my helmet's microphone. Rage and fear colored my words, breaking the usual formality I held with mission control. Knowing that such emotion was not going to me anywhere sooner, I took a gentle breath and calmly spoke into the radio. _

_"Code word: Steel Rain, I repeat, Steel Rain. Marking positions for drop."_

_"Understood, Misfit Two. They're on the way. Standby for Titanfall."_

* * *

The heavens cried tears of fire.

The white clouds cracked of a storm-less thunder.

Judgment Day had come.

That was what many had thought when two, identical flaming masses had erupted from the clouds, going faster than the speed of sound, as evident by the sky-shattering booms that echoed above. Falling stars, was what few keen-eyed witnesses thought when they saw a huge metal pod through the heat and fire. But all speculations gave way to fear and awe, a result of the descending giants that had broken from their metal shells, landing on the earth with great force that the windows of the surrounding buildings had shattered and its walls became cracked. So great was the force that one of the titans had fallen victim to one of these steel gods' landing, their bones shattered and their flesh pulped.

As the smoke and steam cleared, a shimmering dome of alien blue shielded the crouching, golems of metal, almost like an egg ready to hatch. The 'shells' were translucent however, allowing the onlookers a better view of the occupants within. One was very thin, with a bulbous torso, lanky arms, and compound legs. The other was more up-armored, with a barrel chest and cylindrical gauntlets and greaves. Despite of the differences in appearance, they had both shared a mechanical, humanoid look to them.

Armored Titans. Entirely different from the giant that assaulted the inner gate of the Shiganshina District five years, but they were no less frightening.

As the assorted members of the Garrison and Scouting Legions looked onward in complete shock, one of the Militia Pilots of the 1st Fleet's Marauder Corps had charged into the fray, weaving and sliding through the legs of flesh-titans and bounding off the walls at a speed thought unobtainable. His destination was clear, however. While the thicker Titan was more distant and almost unreachable, the skeletal one was within the ease of range of the foreign soldier.

As the flight-suited man passed through the ghostly field without resistance, the Titan seemingly woke up, eyeing the pilot with its square head and proceeded to grab the soldier. Garrett didn't bother to struggle, allowing the metal giant to open its chest and toss the pilot into it, shielding him whole as its steel-like torso clamped shut. As the armored cabin finalized its sealing process, the synchronization system that bonded a pilot's nervous system to the controls of the battle walker was completed in a matter of seconds.

_'AI offline, transferring control to Pilot' _

The Titan then sprang up to its full height, whipping out the massive rifle that was magnetized to its back to aim at its taller and more human-like counterpart. As the afternoon sun gleamed down on the green-painted war machine, the voice of the younger pilot boomed from within.

**_"COME ON YOU APES! LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT IT TAKES TO FIGHT A TRUE TITAN!"_**

* * *

Although I had already known that titans didn't really have the intelligence to reply to my challenge, my enhanced voice was enough to draw the attention of not only the fifty-some foot tall giant, but the other attacking titans as well. I wasn't expecting for a one-on-one throw down anyway; as long as I was drawing their attention, then it was more time for the Legionnaires to retreat.

A quick glance around my Stryder's Heads-Up Display told me everything I needed to know of this particular Titan's loadout. Besides the XO-16 Chaingun that I was currently holding, dumbfire rocket salvos were at my disposal. The electrical smokescreen was armed as well, but I had doubts on whether the man-eating giants were vulnerable to shock based attacks, but some experimenting and making a quick getaway was not out of the option. All-in-all, it was a standard and light fare of weaponry, not one I would bring into a situation like this.

But it would have to do.

Piloting my Titan forward, I began to depress on the firing stud of my weapon controls, causing the chaingun to spew out bullets that were nearly twice as long as a ruler. The one point six inch slugs had torn right into the titan's ankles, causing it to stumble forward, but it didn't not lose its balance yet.

As I came within reach of the giant's lanky arms, I triggered the booster systems of my Titan, allowing the skeletal machine to skid across the street's surface like it was ice, putting myself just right behind its ankles. Before I could even line a shot at the nape, the flesh-titan quickly turned and raised its foot, as if it was opting to stomp me like I was an oversized metal spider.

Dashing to the side to avoid its stomping feet, I barely bit back a curse at the close call. The toes of the titan had barely brushed with the thruster mount of my Stryder, nearly knocking my Titan off balance, were it not for its advanced gyroscopic and shield systems. I was quick to retaliate, putting myself in a slight spin that would align my chaingun's barrel with the giant's face. With a burst of high velocity metal, the titan was good as blind.

Clutching its eyes with one hand, the combined loss of sight and due to the fact that its ankles had not yet fully regenerated, the titan began to pitch forward. Still, it would not fall, for it had a semblance of recognizing its lack of balance, with its second hand shooting out to brace against one of the buildings.

_'Warning, you are now outnumbered four to one'_ the gentle voice of my Titan's AI spoke to me.

Eyes still steaming, the titan began to swing its other arm wildly. I was quick to back off, turning my attention to the trio of man-eaters that were coming up behind me. A five meter, seven meter, and even a ten meter were plodding in my direction at their own, almost leisurely, pace, as if I was a twenty four-seven buffet. Not bothering to aim at a specific target within the crowd of hostiles, the chaingun's muzzle flashed and flared as the remaining ammunition was emptied into giants. As the titan-sized assault rifle gave off the tell-tale click of its depleted magazine supply and the Stryder began its auto-reloading sequence, my hand quickly blurred to activate the pod of ordnance that was flashed-forged on my Titan's shoulder.

A swarm of unguided missiles roared out of the pod, smashing into the ranks of man-eaters. Even before the smoke cleared, I immediately pushed into the fray, swinging my free hand and by proxy, my Stryder's hand, wildly. I felt the satisfying shudder of alloyed metal making contact with bone and flesh, and what sounded like the pulping of fruit. The smoke cleared a bit, giving me a good view of the seven meter's headless corpse. Steam pouring from its demolished neck, the giant fell to the ground, almost anticlimactically. I didn't bother in celebrating the kill though, for I had decided to dash back to avoid any possible retaliation from the other targets. Skidding backwards, I had narrowly avoided getting yanked back in by the five meter that had survived my last barrage.

A burst from the XO-16 had brought an end to that notion, the high-precision rounds punching though the fragile neck like it was a wet towel.

That left only the ten meter, which was now brought low due to taking the majority of the damage from the missiles. One it arms was blasted right up to the elbow, with its torso was vaporized and detached from its lower half. The upper left chunk of its head was blown off, but since its other eye was still intact, it tried to renew its assault. The giant grasped out with its (relatively) functional arm, with its regenerating stump propped on the ground to support it. The movement was slow and jerky, giving me enough time to grab its arm and its blasted chest and place it against my Titan's hip. Executing a crude hip toss, the upper half of the titan was flung into the recently regenerated behemoth that tried to sneak up from behind me.

The two fell in a tangle of limbs, allowing me to plant my Stryder's foot on the remnant of the ten meter's torso and grab unto its neck. Digging the metal fingers into the flesh around the nape, I yanked hard, ripping the mass of meat from the rest of its body. Crushing the fingers over the bundle of biomass, the nape exploded into a mess of evaporating blood and steam, briefly staining red the forest green paint of my Stryder's hull.

_'Unknown hostile terminated'_ the Titan's AI commented again, as cheerful as ever.

However, the fifteen meter tried to rise again, but a single stomp from the overpowered hydraulics in my Titan's leg kept it in its place. Placing the chaingun nearly flush against its throat, I simply pulsed the trigger of my firing controls.

A singular gunshot rang out, a sound that was so loud and clear that it was like the final bell toll for the dead.

It was a clean execution, a much more rewarding end to the monster that deserved it.

But it was also the bell toll of the beginning.

The beginning of the hunt.

* * *

In the entirety of Oluo Bozado's life, riding on top of the shoulders of giants was not one of the things he thought he would attempt, let alone accomplish, in his lifetime.

Living up to match the greatness that was Corporal Levi? A difficult task, but with time, Oluo believed, he could do just that.

Winning the heart of a certain ginger-haired squadmate? Well, if he managed to accomplish the first, then the second was in the bag for him.

But as the grey-haired scout held on to the rung that was mounted to the huge metal Titan that was currently be operated by the foreign marksman, he was briefly overcome by a small sense of invincibility, that not only could the scout live up to the Corporal standards, but he could surpass them as well, to exceed past the mental and physical Walls placed by Humanity.

Of course, all dreams were literally dashed aside as the Atlas, as Bolton called the iron and steel Titan, suddenly blasted to the side to flank the incoming giants that stood between them and the rally point that was marked out via signal flare.

A large, plinking noise of fury-ignited metal resounded from the cannon that was being wielded by the human-controlled golem. The shell, quite smaller than most of the high-explosive cannon rounds utilized by the Garrison, skidded across the tip of a building's rooftop, realigning itself to strike dead center in an unsuspecting titan's nape.

The round exploded with a force that was nearly impossible for its size, vaporizing a whole chunk of the giant's neck and taking a good portion of the head. The flesh-titan fell to the ground almost soundlessly, its limbs flopping around uselessly. In or outside a Titan, it seemed that Roger's aim was a skill that remained a constant, if not improved.

A duo of man-eaters had just rounded the corner to investigate the foreign sound, with hopes of seeking a potential victim, little knowing that they had walked right into their own deaths. Said deaths came in the form of a ring of homing missiles that the Militia sniper had locked-on beforehand. As the smoke cleared, all that remained of the titans were the large fragments of evaporating skeletons.

As the two scouts surveyed the destruction, Jinn could only look at his anti-titan sword that was being clung in his free hand almost uselessly.

_'I wonder what it will take to acquire one of these metal Titans' _he thought, '_Frightening they may be, the level of power these things wield is nothing short of amazing'_

A zip followed by the accommodating hiss marked the incoming of a 3-DM gear user. But as the two pair of human eyes (and multiple Titan optics) spotted out the user's identity, the trio of men nearly groaned in unison.

"Yo Jinn, Bozado! Commander Erwin and Levi are waiting for you-WAIT, WHAT IS THAT!?" Hanji practically screeched out in surprised as she finally noticed the armored behemoth that the veteran soldiers were clinging on.

While neither scouts nor pilot chose to answer her question, Zoe did not hesitate to take a closer look, even at the protest of her teammates who had just arrived. At this point, Roger decided to dismount from the Atlas, the chest cabin splaying open as he exited the combat mech.

Fully-loaded Kraber in hand, the Militia sniper walked around to the back of his Titan to inspect the huge supply pack that was strapped on. Bolton only had time to give a light explanation to his accompanying allies that the armored Titan that had just landed explosively before them, was in-fact a machine, made by humans, and operated by humans. Giving the two a quick look at the interior control seat before he boarded it was enough to finally convince them that the Atlas was harmless enough to be on their side.

_**"Get on"** Roger's voice had boomed out from the enhanced speakers, as the machine finally stood up to its full height. _

_Neither scout had bothered the thought of arguing. Especially afterward, when the two were treated to a first-hand sight of high-precision destruction as the Atlas stalked down the street in a combat stance not unlike its Pilot, the heavy cannon firing at a steady, drum-like rhythm. For every shot fired from the Titan's weapon, another giant would fall, its death a guarantee as Bolton panned the crosshair over his target._

But with the area now relatively secured, a quick inventory was in order. Extra ammunition for both small-arms and Titan ordnance were tightly bundled together at the thigh and shoulder plates, allowing for easier access in combat. Long range patrol and survival kits were packed in the large rucksack that was mounted on the mech's back.

As Roger took a quick peek inside most of the major compartments, he was willing to bet his final paycheck that Garrett's Stryder was outfitted in a similar manner.

_'Should of known better than to doubt Sarah. She wasn't joking when our "care packages" would be heavier than normal. I knew something was off with the auto-balance system. Atlas Titans might be on the sluggish side, but they're usually more respectable than this. Still, can't complain about the food and ammo'_ Roger thought to himself as he sealed the last pouch he inspected.

Taking a step back, the sniper had not noticed the goggled scout that was standing inquisitively over his shoulder, bumping right into her. Hanji did not mind though, her wide, questioning eyes now locked on to the larger optic that was mounted on Bolton's Cyclops goggles.

"Oh, bugger" the pilot whispered aloud.

* * *

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Despite of the advanced technology and ergonomics that was loaded in a Stryder Titan, their cabins were always a bit cramped for most pilots. Although "a bit cramp" for pilots usually meant claustrophobic for most untrained humans, Titans were still war-machines, their lethality a bigger priority over comfort.

Still, would it kill the techies to install a seat adjuster in here?

Considering the reactor core that was giving me my daily diet of gamma radiation right now, it probably would of.

A warning ping and a red silhouette of a four-meter titan walked into the view of my radar-enhanced HUD, the flesh-eater oblivious to me and my Stryder's presence that stood on the other side of the ram-shackled building. With my musings now on pause, my muscles had begun to tense, alongside the servos of the mech that was linked to my nervous system. I held myself in check, going back to the common breathing exercise that many had perfected in the past to extend their patience.

Perhaps it was either due to the intense training and augments that every Pilot goes through and/or a side effect of the combat stims and daily anti-rad drugs that we take, but us Pilots are known to never stay still in one place, inside or outside of a Titan.

Staying at ground level on foot was already considered a pet peeve among most other Pilots. But when it came to staying still for an ambush? It was a wonder itself on how I managed to accomplish some of the training scenarios Roger had put me through.

My eyes flicker to timer that was counting down by the second.

Just three more, borderline agonizing, seconds to go.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inh-_'Dash Core Online' _spoke out my Stryder's AI.

Oh, thanks to all that is holy and benevolent!

Half-tackling, half-dashing through the crude, time-worn walls, I shoulder checked right into my target's jaw, shattering it into a steam. Being as light as they were, the flesh-titan flew across the street, smashing into the building behind it. The titan was immediately out of the fight, its downed body slumping on the remains of an intact wall.

A three-round burst fired from the XO-16 had made sure it stayed down.

Turning at an exact ninety-degree angle, another burst from the chaingun had scythe into a leg that belonged to a twelve meter. The giant stumbled, causing it to fall on one knee. I did not bother sticking around to finish it off, opting to dashing my Titan past it, popping the electric smoke launchers that were integrated on its armor as I went.

A grey cloud immediately flooded the surrounding area around me and the giant, obscuring both of our vision from each other. A swing from the flesh-titan was sent in my direction, but I was already long gone, my Stryder's thruster pack doing the majority of my mech's movement. After the smoke finished condensing, lances of electricity danced within the cloud, the nano-machines that were floating within discharging their entire power supply as one, creating a lethal voltage that was capable of damaging a shielded Ogre.

Even though I could barely see the giant's silhouette, I heard the creature yell in a pained moan, its muscles spassing out of control. The more sensitive parts of the titan's physiology was being completely fried, the freakishly large eyeballs melting into vapor, and as my mech's AI confirmed its death, the nape was shocked beyond the point of any possible recovery.

Two titan kills in a matter of four seconds. If they were anything like the Titans I've gone up against, this would have been the fastest double kill I pulled off, IMC jackboots and droids excluded of course. But, considering the level of intelligence these things had in comparison to the former and latter, I was just being unfair.

Not that I was complaining about it or anything.

Roger's voice began to crackle over the radio.

_"Misfit Lead to Misfit Two, I just got an update from the short bastard. We're headed back to the breach in the Wall. Garrison survivors were talking about on how they were being decoys for a 'special' unit that is going to try to seal the hole. Scouts think they have a death wish, but the whole spec-ops guard division is mobilized on the other side of town, so they're going to need the help at least. I'm setting a waypoint on the maps" _

"Understood. See you in a few" I replied.

Thrusters flaring, my Stryder began flew down and through the streets, the frictionless foot skates going into overdrive. A mob of titans began to crop up ahead of me, but a swarm of unguided rockets was more than enough to disrupt their attempts at getting a bite out of me. I didn't bother to stop to personally finish them off, as I was already in the thick of their ranks. Another dispersal of electrical smoke from my Titan had done the job just fine.

Even when the Dash Core had shut down to recharge and the extra supplies that were mounted on the hull, I still was going past whole, city blocks like a leaf on the wind, thanks to innate speed granted by the Stryder's light (read: nonexistent) armor design. Taking a sharp turn around the corner, I just reacted in time to dodge a flying, spidery-looking giant that had took a biting leap at me. My Stryder's leg joints became unlocked, and with sharp burst from the thruster pack, I narrowly slid under the soaring titan. Instead of face-planting into the ground like its slower brethren, this particular giant had executed a crude roll on its landing, before it quickly recovered on all four of its appendages, making its resemblance to a demonic spider even more eerily.

The mad gleam within it eyes and the psycho-slasher smile somehow completed the twisted look.

Deviant titan.

It was only a matter of time when I was going to encounter another one.

Realigning itself and tensing its muscles, it was obvious it was going to reattempt its leaping attack. In a rare sign of flesh-titan intelligence, the giant had decided to aim lower, cutting off any chance for me to repeat my last slide. With a mighty spring of its powerful muscles, the titan flew through the air once more, its mouth wide open, and its eyes seemingly confident in its success.

A shame I wouldn't be able to see its reaction after I gave it a nice left hook.

Steel met teeth and flesh, with predictable results. Vaporizing blood sprayed everywhere as the giant's mouth caved inwards, the bone white and yellow of its teeth shattering into fragments the size of my head. Said fragments had cut into the flesh-titan's cheeks, causing more blood to flow and evaporate from its mouth.

Unfortunately, unlike the previous titan I had successfully killed by a similar blow, this titan's head was much larger. Had I been a second too slow, the deviant would have been picking my Stryder's entire left arm out of its teeth. Still, the power behind my strike, combined with the titan's light weight was enough to knock it out of the air and back into the street.

Clamping my right foot down, I began to shoot into the nape, my XO-16 giving off the steady feedback of its recoil. The giant began to thrash around and would have nearly threw me off, but as the heavy bullets punched into its vital spot, the spider-like humanoid died with a final shudder.

Steam began to pour everywhere out of its wounds as I disengaged and made way to the breach in the Wall, the arms of my Stryder whirring as it reloaded and recycled the chaingun's drum magazine. My eyes flickering to the ammunition count on my HUD, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of spare ammo I had for the automatic weapon. The shoulder-mounted rockets however, had caused me to grimace slightly. Only enough for five more barrages before the entire launcher was dead weight.

Blue blips began to appear on my minimap, the sensors built into my helmet and Titan detecting the incoming team of scouts that were probably sent to investigate the ruckus I made. I managed to pick out the faces of Petra and Gunther, and their Corporal as well. Minus Levi, the amber and grey-haired soldiers looked at my Stryder and the recent titan kill I made in what was a mix of fear, awe, curiosity, and wonderment. Their squad leader on the other hand, had just simply chose to raise a critical eyebrow, his head tilting ever so slightly that it was damn near-imperceptible.

Opening the hatch, but still remaining seated, I waved my Stryder's arm in the direction of the entrance we came through before.

"You guys headed to the breach? Might want to stop gawking at me and start moving. Hostiles are going to flood this area if we don't" I shouted out at them.

Before Ral or Schultz could even ask the questions on their minds, Levi had already cut them off.

"He's right. The Garrisons got a plan to seal the breach, as impossible that sounds. Whatever it is they're doing, it's getting a lot attention from the titans, regardless of the decoy teams."

"I also got some space on the back for one of you to hitch on, if anyone is low on gas. Not going to lie, but if you're riding with me, we're going to be the first ones on the frontline" I said as I jerked the Stryder's thumb at its back.

The team members began to exchange looks between themselves and the mechanized Titan, fear and hesitation apparent in their eyes. Levi stayed cool and straight to the point as ever, already having a person in mind.

"Ral, you go with the foreigner. Your gas reserves are low from running as a decoy. When you two arrive before the breach, I want you to split and make contact with the Garrison officers. Coordinate with them before we arrive"

Turning his attention towards me, he began to speak.

"As for you, try to stem the flow of titans coming through and make an opening for the guards. Your friend should already be there" he ordered.

The sealing of my Stryder's hatch was my way of replying an affirmative. Turning my back towards Petra to allow her access, I warned her as we began to move out.

**_"This is your Pilot speaking. Please hold on tight and please keep all limbs inside the safety of the defensive systems. The Militia is not responsible for any possible dismemberment or death that would result from failure to comply. Thank you for choosing Stryder Express"_**I said in a mocking tone that resembled the AIs that came with every Titan.

Even though I couldn't see her, I could already imagine the woman white-knuckling the grapple bar.

**_"No seriously, if you want to stay alive with all your parts attached, try not to go past the barrier. I'm pulsing it now so you can see it. It will at least slow down or deflect a grab from a titan, so no jumping off until we're in the clear."_**

True to my word, the hexagonal shield systems lit up for a brief second, allowing Petra to see the protective barrier that hugged the air around the mech.

Not bothering to wait for a reply I began to charge down the street, the amber-haired scout nearly screaming her head off as we went.

* * *

_The Reluctant Heroes - mpi_

We had arrived to the sounds of a 40mm cannon and the sight of Hanji Zoë fighting like a multitasking maniac. As she casually cut down a fifteen-some meter titan, she began shouting out theories, more to herself than anyone, for almost everything my mentor's Atlas did.

"If its central spine can turn with such fluidity, then that would mean a material would have to be flexible, yet static enough to provide the right amount of friction! Of course, a "motor" as Mr. Bolton told me, could do the same trick, but the cost effectiveness would be stagnated…hmm what do you think?" she casually asked another brown-haired titan that tried to make a grab at her.

Hanji only laughed with glee as she danced away with her 3DM gear, firing a hook into Roger's Titan, which oddly did not deflect the harpoon, but rather allow it to become embedded into its armored plate. My mentor did not seem to mind or notice, completely focused on shelling the titans that were coming from the east. Either the Militia sniper had already set his shields to ignore the scout and her equipment, or the hooks were to slow for the barrier to even bother. Using the mech as pivot point, Hanji began to pendulum her way around the machines spherical head, releasing the grapple at the last second, flinging herself at high speed towards her target.

As the giant disintegrated to smoke under her blades, Hanji gave a light chuckle.

"No you silly, these Titans are completely mechanical! All though I suppose the designer did base of their design off of human anatomy. Thank you for the insight!" she said as she bowed her head to the evaporating skeleton.

As Petra dismounted from my Stryder, I turned its robotic head to look at her.

**_"Is she always like this?"_** I asked the more, level-headed scout.

"There was this one time when we came across a deviant at night," Ral began to mutter before her eyes widened, "Squad Leader Zoë! Behind you!"

A three meter giant had come up from behind, intent on climbing to reach at Hanji. The goggled scout had jumped away with a yelp, before Roger had pivoted with a speed impressive for an Atlas, the semi-automatic cannon breathing fire and steel. Zoë had barely taken cover, her position being showered by an explosion of shrapnel and burnt bone.

"_Crazy girl,"_ Roger spoke over the radio comms, _"Been driving me nuts before we even met. Thought letting her come along would shut her yapping. I thought wrong."_

I only gave a light chuckle at the old Pilot's expense before his voice came on again, his tone grave than ever.

_"Heads up, we got contact coming from the east. I'm got some smaller readings, probably Garrison corps, but there's a big one. Fifteen meter I reckon and its moving uncontested. Must be a deviant if they're trying to avoid it."_

_"Got it, stay frosty on that breach" _I said as I turned my attention back to Petra.

**_"Ral, we just detected Garrison squads headed this way. Might want to link up with them. I'll be making some noise to get some pressure off your approach."_**

The scout only nodded before she launched herself off my offered Stryder's hand like a springboard. Turning the spindly war machine down the street chock full of titans, I could already practically feel the anticipation in destroying the man-eating creatures.

_'Just you and me, freaks. Just you and me.'_

* * *

The assorted members of the Garrison and Trainee corps were having what was a day that would forever burn in their minds as shock came after shock. As their comrades fell one-by-one, as the titans kept gaining ground on their positions, and the revelation of one their numbers possessing the ability to shift into their hated enemy, it was a testament to their strength that they managed to continue the mission the way they did. And when Eren Jaeger had finally risen as the Rogue Titan once again for the sake of humanity, an ember of hope came to life in every one of them.

An armored Titan made completely out of metal had nearly threatened to extinguish that hope. But as the spindly machine smashed into its more man-eating counterparts, the ember began to grow. And as the titan-like machine opened its chest to reveal the human within, that ember nearly grew to full-on blaze.

"GET UP SOLDIERS! WE'RE SEALING THAT WALL!" the green-clad man had shouted.

Were it a mission of different circumstances, Eren would have paused to assess the newcomer and possibly confronted him, but he had to walk on, for the whole weight of humanity's survival were on his shoulders. He had to keep fighting…

Garrett on the other hand, was too busy occupied on intercepting the smaller giants that were going after the Legionnaires. It wasn't until that the Rogue Titan's shadow had passed over him that he decided dash away to engage the larger threat. But before the young pilot could take aim, his eyes finally took note of the giant boulder the muscular giant held, almost like the namesake of the Atlas that his mentor was currently wielding.

Mind enhanced from augmentations and years of simulated and real combat, the pilot began to make connections. The size and weight of the boulder was an almost perfect plug for the hole in the Wall, the way the titan had a narrow-minded focus on heading towards the breach despite of the presence of humans around him…was it possible, that this titan was a deviant that was fighting on the side of humanity?

And the he noticed the young trainees, a blond boy and a girl of Asian origin standing before him, confusion apparent in their features as they both looked up at the machine.

* * *

**_"What's going on here?"_** I asked the cadets.

The shorter blond began to stutter before the taller girl beside him began to step up to the plate, a fierce look of determination replacing her apprehension.

"We need to protect Eren at all cost to seal the Wall! Now are you going to help us or get out of the way?!" she said as she raised a sword at my (Stryder's) face.

The way the young soldier had said that was admirable, if not a bit stupid, but with my theory now confirmed, albeit with much surprise, I began to speak quickly to Roger.

_"Misfit Two to Lead!" _I yelled over the radio, _"Do not engage the titan with the boulder! I repeat, do not engage the titan with the boulder! He's the key to sealing the breach! He's the key to winning this!"_

_"Hear you crystal clear, Two. Covering the target now" _the Militia marksman replied.

True to his word, 40mm rounds beginning to rain on the smaller titans. Giants began to fall like rain, the Garrison and Trainees fighting the monsters that we drew. Charging past Eren, I went into a full sprint, firing my Chaingun as I went.

I heard the young trainees behind me, yelling as their battle cries as they ran.

"Watch it, another titan!" shouted the boy.

"_**I got this one" **_Bolton replied with a missile that was quickly locked-on in a timespan of a second. The explosive had struck center mass, severing the giant at the torso, causing it to fall over. A platinum-haired guard made quick work of the weakened titan, its nape severed with fierce precision.

And as the Rogue Titan got closer to the wall, we all began to feel the end to this trying conflict.

"GO EREN!"

And with a mighty roar, Eren threw the boulder into the breach with all his massive strength, permanently sealing the Wall from any further invasion. The very world had become still as the dust settled and the giant fell to his knees, almost like he was completely exhausted. And soon, steam began to pour out from the Rogue Titan's nape. Much to our surprise an unconscious boy, no older than the trainees that participated in the battle, emerged from the nape of the titan. His comrades quickly ran to his side.

"Eren" the girl spoke gently in a tone like that of a loved one, before she hugged him tightly.

Eren began to wake, his eyes opening slowly like it was the weekend morning.

"Mikasa, Armin" he finally noted his friends. But as he finally notice the armed and armored Titans, his eyes began to widen.

"What are those things?" his eyes widened with complete shock, the design of the two-story machines being almost completely alien to his mind.

"Relax brats, they're human and on our side" Levi said coolly as he zipped in with his 3DM gear. Steaming blood was fresh on his ruined swords, which he had quickly went through the motions of replacing.

"Today for the first time, humanity has finally won against the titans" said the platinum blonde guard said, her eyes tearing up with the multitude of emotions. Raising her flare gun, a yellow trail erupted from the barrel, flying to the sky at a distance that allowed almost everyone in the city to see it.

The battle was won.

But it was to my realization, that I was now part of another war.

One that was far from finished.

* * *

AN: And so ends this season's installment of _Steel Rain_. I had a feeling that I could have written the Titanfalls better, hell the whole chapter, but I doubt I have the literary skill to capture it right and time is against me right now. This story will remain incomplete for the time being, but hopefully, when the next summer comes along; my motivation to finish sharing this story will remain, as well as wait for Hajime Isayama and Respawn Entertainment to continue expanding the universes that inspired this story. This is rook417 and I send this message to my fellow Legionnaires. Remember to never stop fighting and to always continue to pursue your passions. And finally, to all my fellow Pilots; Standby for Titanfall…


End file.
